


Chances Are

by sexylegolas



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Avengers - Freeform, Black Widow - Freeform, Endgame, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, LOTR, LOTR/Avengers, Legolas Love Story, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Moving On, Multiverse, Natasha Romanoff - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War of the Ring, Rivendell | Imladris, Romance, Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Wanda/Elrohir, lordoftherings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexylegolas/pseuds/sexylegolas
Summary: LOTR & AVENGERS CROSSOVER. ROMANCE. WANDA X ELROHIR. Wanda Maximoff was a world class failure. Things are fixed but never the same. Chances are, she gets tangled into another kind of mess sooner or later. Meanwhile, she tries to keep her head down and preserve whatever bits of happiness remained in her new life. She started over. Things seemed to turn for the better for her, until she realized that she could never escape from her past. From who she is.
Relationships: Elrohir/Wanda Maximoff, Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 46





	1. A New Start

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Infinity Ring (Legolas Love Story)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295634) by [sexylegolas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexylegolas/pseuds/sexylegolas). 



The brunette tread along the forest floor, her soft hazel eyes scanning the surrounding area lazily for anything edible that grew at the outskirt of the realm of Imladris. Her mind was floating aimlessly. She was daydreaming of mama's homemade soup and was even tempted to whistle, but somewhere behind her consciousness she heard her old mentor telling her not to attract danger while being in an open space.

No matter how much the heart telling her that she's safe, her trained mindset was never really at ease. But still, that doesn't change the fact that she was very happy with her life now.

Wanda took one of the few wild berries that she gathered in her basket, gently cleaning it before popping some into her mouth. Her fingers and thumbs were adorned with several rings-too many to be acceptable in this world. But if she loses everything else-not that she was complaining- to hell with it, she was definitely keeping the rings.

"If you keep on munching, you'll end up coming home with nothing no matter how many fruits you collect at the forest," said a smooth male voice tainted with so much mischief and hidden agendas.

She used to get jumpy when Ro or Dan popped up behind her like that. After all, elves don't make any sounds when they walk. It was unsettling, but after living with their race for years now, she finally get used to it.

"Mind your own business," she said flatly, but the handsome elf noted the playfulness on her tone. She continued, "Which one are you anyway?"

Even without looking, Wanda could feel him smirking next to her.

"Still don't know how to differentiate both of us, do you? Do not fret, many people still can't. Even my own grumpy _adar,"_ muttered the elf rather smugly.

Wanda didn't bother slowing down nor turning to see him, but rather held out her hand, filled with a few berries in it. "How about a bribe?"

"I am a noble warrior," snorted Elrohir, "I don't do bribes," he declared while taking the berries from her hand and popping them into his mouth.

Wanda couldn't help but cracked a smile this time and looked at him. "You're full of shit, Ro," she commented lightly with that slight Russian dialect accenting her soft, smooth voice.

He didn't know if Wanda was just guessing or if she started to learn to differentiate him and his identical brother; but it seemed that the later was right.

"By merlin's beard, woman!" exclaimed Elrohir, surprised but not any less delighted, "You kiss your mama with that mouth? Where did you learn such filthy and unbecoming words for a lady?"

"My brother."

Elrohir looked at the pretty brunette, slightly surprised.

"You never talked about him before," said Ro, mischief absent in his pleasant voice.

"You never asked."

"Where is he?"

Wanda began to contemplate whether opening up a part of her was a bad move, but after the friendship that he extended to her, she reckoned he deserved to know it. "He's in a better place," she said with a wistful smile, "Probably somewhere he can run forever."

Elrohir put a hand on Wanda's shoulder, effectively stopping her in track. They locked eyes, and Wanda's smile grew as he saw Elrohir's confused, narrowed eyes. It used to bother her staring at such an inhumanly handsome elf, but now she could at least keep the eye contact long enough for a normal human being.

Elrohir, on the other hand, kept staring at her; weighing her words down. It was the first time that she even talked about her family. But then she also made it sounds like her brother was a passed away puppy.

"Are you pulling my leg, _mellon_?"

Wanda knew exactly what thought was going on under that perfect, beautiful raven hair of his. "No," she replied, but there was still a secretive smile etched across her face.

Elrohir still couldn't make up his mind whether she was telling the truth or simply was fooling around with him. Afterall, she was unlike anyone he ever met. It was hard to read her-one of the reason why he and his twin brother got along with Wanda. She could endure the twins' prank and mischief, and she kept him guessing.

"My brother loved to run," she finally gave in, prying her eyes away from the elf and continued walking. "I think, if the afterlife exist, if it is even a happy place..." There was a slight change in her voice, a little bit of grief that Elrohir caught slipping past her usually flat but mellow voice as she bent down to pick a few mushrooms near one giant tree, "I think my brother would go there. He would run and run and run and never gets tired."

The smugness and mischief that usually etched across his face had been drained to a look of genuine sympathy for her. "My deepest condolence, Wanda. You must loved him very much."

Wanda shrugged. "Probably as much as you love Dan. We were inseparable. We spoke the same language and we finished each other's sentences."

Their eyes met before Wanda uncomfortably darted her eyes away from his cool grey eyes.

"Valar. You and your brother were twins," concluded Elrohir, reading between the lines.

Wanda didn't mean to tell him that much, but she guessed that being a twin himself, Elrohir would be able to understand her feelings about her own twin brother in a wholly different level. She nodded. "I guess now you know how I could stand both of you."

Elrohir let out a small chuckle, but a look of sympathy still etched across the graceful plane of his face. Wanda gazed at him, seeing the kind expression on his face. Ro might be the most pain in the ass sometimes, even more than Dan, but he was also the most open, the kindest.

Wanda placed a hand on his bicep, feeling the hardness beneath the exquisite material of his tunic. She gazed deep into his eyes. "Do yourself a favor," her voice quivered a little as she looked at him, "When you find yourself in a battle, don't you take your eyes off of Elladan. Not even once," she warned with emotion cracked at her accented voice, "Because if you lose him, you'll lose a part of yourself that you can never recover."

With that, she resumed walking, leaving the stunned Elrohir a few steps behind her. Wanda took a silent, deep breath, wondering if she had delved into her past too much. Ro didn't need to know that much about her; but she knew how it felt to lose her own twin brother. To have that kind of bond severed-she simply didn't want Ro to feel what she felt.

"I never told you Dan's full name before."

That statement drew Wanda out of her mellow reverie. She paused her walk as Ro caught up to her. He watched her with a certain wariness. Silence befell them before Ro decided to voice his question.

"...Do you..."

"Yes," answered Wanda, answering Ro's unfinished question. "I figured it out for two years now."

"Just so we're clear, what exactly did you figure out?" tested Ro sneakily, drawing a smirk from Wanda.

"You said you and your brother are training to become patrol guards for Rivendell, yet you two dressed like a noble." At this, Ro glanced to himself; feeling suddenly conscious with what he wore. "You might go your way wearing the simplest clothing around me, yet they're still made up of some real exquisite material-material that worth more than all my wardrobe combined."

"That doesn't prove any-"

"You two might be pranksters, but you carry yourself with confidence-"

He smirked. "It's hard to resist my charm-" he winked, causing Wanda to pressed her lips together to contain her amusement.

"I'm talking about how you can handle yourselves. How you are always trained to study your environment. You're not a trainee. You're a seasoned warrior."

Elrohir stared at her with wide, cool grey eyes, dumbfounded. How'd she managed to get all that from just how he looked?

"I found out that the lord of Rivendell has two sons named Elladan and Elrohir. I'm guessing the long version of Dan and Ro."

"You knew this for two years now?" he gazed at her with wonder.

"Yes," Wanda said rather smugly, popping one berry into her mouth.

"You're not mad that Elladan and I lied to you for all these years?"

She shook her head. "No. I understand. You're born a noble elf. I am an immigrant human girl," she stated, subconsciously lowering her head a little in shame, "I'm sure you're not even allowed to spend time with someone like me. But I appreciate your friendship, so I play along."

An ice froze his heart at hearing the weight in her words. "Wanda... it's not like that. Do you think I lied to you about who I am because-?" Wanda cut him as he looked at her in disbelief, sadness swam heavily in his liquid grey eyes.

"It's okay. I'm not mad. This is just how the world works," she shrugged it off, trying to make Ro feel less guilty.

The elf grabbed her arm. His grip was firm yet gentle at the same time. "That's not why I hid myself and told Dan to do the same too," he told her dreadfully, "I thought I was doing it for your sake. But, oh Valar, I let you feel otherwise for two years?"

Wanda didn't answer and rather more interested in staring at the lovely silver buttons of his soft blue riding tunic. Her eyes wondered to a little bit of alabaster skin of his chest that peeked from the top of his unbuttoned shirt near his neck. She blushed.

He took her chin with his thumb and index finger, tipping her head up. Wanda could see the sincerity and sadness in his cool grey eyes. She began to feel uncomfortable for making Ro seemed so guilty. And she shouldn't think that Ro has such beautiful eyes now, should she?

"I am not ashamed of you, Wanda."

"It's alright, I promise."

"Stop," murmured Elrohir, this time pulling her closer to him by her waist to silence her. Silence fell between them. "The first time I met you, you were so closed off. I told Dan and myself that we shouldn't scare you off because you seem shy, and that we should tell you once you're comfortable around us. But by then I keep on postponing that plan because I fear you would hate me of you find out I've been lying to you."

"I already hate you. Both of you are pain in my ass," said Wanda with a pretty, playful smile in her lips. How could she ever hate him? So pure, so kind, so funny...

For a while Elrohir couldn't help but stare at her beautiful lips, wondering how it would feel if he could just somehow taste her. At this point he could just lean down a bit and tip her head up a little more...

Neither of them dared to breathe. But eventually Wanda did, but it felt as if she forgot how to breathe properly. Elrohir gazed at her, eyes memorizing every curve of her face. Wanda relished the feeling of his slightly calloused archer hand on her cheek. His strong hands moved down and stopped at her neck.

"Do you really hate me?" he asked softly.

This went against all her common sense. Having someone holding her by her neck was the stupidest thing she could ever let anyone do. But she couldn't resist the fact that she trusted him, or the fact that his touch was gentle and mindful; she felt safe around him.

To answer him, Wanda only smiled a little bashfully.

Being much taller than the petite woman, Elrohir tipped her chin up some more with his thumb. He leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss.

It was magical, and the moment their lips touch, sparks fly between them-at least for Wanda. Both of them began to move together, finding their rhythm.

Her lips was just as he imagined: sweet and gentle, just like she was. He kissed her like he meant it, just like the way he had been daydreaming about.

"Don't," whisper Wanda as their lips parted. Her eyes still closed, but she could feel his lips hovering just above her.

"Don't what?" asked Elrohir, dread started to rise in his chest.

"Don't give me hope," she opened her mesmerizing hazel eyes-an autumn meadow he could get lost into- "Don't kiss me like that if you don't intend on keeping me."

 _Keeping her._ Like she was one of the fancy objects in his father's house that he liked for now, only to throw away when he's bored with it later. Elrohir couldn't believe the message she was sending him between those lines. He studied her, feeling as if his heart was sliced open as he witnessed the dizzying mixture of emotions in those hazel eyes.

He still didn't know anything of her past. It was a mystery to him and Dan, and she refused to speak of it. Now he knew why: she was hurt before. To what extend, he didn't know, but he could see it as clearly as the day in her eyes.

"I can never hurt you," he vowed, gently caressing her cheek, "I will never."

She studied him, his expression silently begging her to believe him.

"Say something," he persuaded her softly.

"This better be not a prank," she mumbled rather accusingly. Elrohir had the decency to feign being somewhat offended.

"You make me sound like a moron that is unable to control himself."

The side of Wanda's mouth turned up into a smile. "Fine then," she smiled, peeking at him through her long lashes, "You may proceed."

The insides of Elrohir's stomach made a turn at hearing her low voice. He never heard her used that kind of tone before-he felt as if he was bewitched.

"Thank-thank you," he replied lamely, his wit had left him and he could do nothing but hide his nerves behind a grin.

Elrohir was always well spoken with his speech. That was her first time hearing him stutter. A soft giggle escaped Wanda, one that made his heart sing. This time both of them held on to each other tighter, the fruit basket fell carelessly near their feet as they kissed again.

Eventually, Elrohir was right. Wanda came home that day with almost nothing in her fruit basket. Etheriel, the ellith who practically adopted her into the family- her mama- knew that something was different about Wanda that day she came home.

She smiled more often, her gaze didn't seem as empty as it used to be. Wanda had come a long way since the first time she found her. She seemed happier. But now... she was glowing.

Etheriel might be just a lowly seamstress, not that educated, but as the mother of the family she knows when one of her girls was infatuated with someone-and being the nosy elf that she was, she intended to find out who Wanda's secret lover was.

***

[ **Author's Note** : Making a new fanfic while I still have two unfinished fanfic is bad idea. But then again I have to do this or else I'll go crazy. I still don't know where this fanfic is going to go, and if I'm stuck I might turn this into a bunch of one shots. What do you think of the chapter? Btw: Thanks you so much for reading!]


	2. The Blessed Forest

Elladan and Elrohir had never really been studious. Since they were but elflings, the twins would rather fool around making all sorts of pranks and mischief, leading their tutors to frustration. Lord Elrond thought this behavior would wear off as they come of age. It didn’t.

As Erestor, his chief of advisor, were presenting his view on the reports of Rivendell’s latest security report, The lord of Rivendell kicked Elrohir’s foot beneath the desk.

The kick instantly jostled the younger twin back to reality. His head snapped up to see the face of his _adar_ (father) frowning grumpily at him. He immediately covered the sketch he made on the parchment before him and pried his eyes to Erestor to try to listen to the matters at hand.

“…a band of orcs has been spotted east of our border. Our border patrol had successfully chased them away and killed any that showed up a few days ago, but yesterday we got another report of more orcs sightings…”

He did try to listen. But alas, Elrohir’s thoughts drifted back to a face of a pretty young woman who had stolen his heart.

Erestor’s voice was merely a background noise as Elrohir imagined back the memory of Wanda. He could still feel her soft lips on his; could taste the remaining of the sweet berries on her mouth…

‘ _So you and Wanda, huh?_ ’

Elladan’s voice rang in his mind. Elrohir cursed inwardly when he saw the shit eating grin on his brother’s face. Ro mentally told him to mind his own business, but he knew it was impossible. After all, they both shared a blood bond. Being an inseparable twins, both of them could feel each other’s emotions perfectly. And unfortunately Elladan liked to tease Ro whenever he can, just as much as Ro liked to tease his own brother.

‘ _Payback is sweet,_ ’ mocked Elladan mentally to Elrohir.

The younger twin chose to ignore him and went back to watch Erestor’s presentation, but in a minute his mind returned to the fading golden sun the day before.

He remembered standing there amidst of the forest just at the outskirt of the city. He could hear the trees singing softly in a gentle tune, a sweet lullaby to his ears. She was looking up at him, her doe, hazel eyes captivated him. He was well aware of how she was resting her hands on his chest, how he placed his on her small waist. Elrohir just realized how small Wanda was compared to him. At the moment, a conflicting feeling waged war inside him. He wanted to make her his; ravish her with abandon. Yet the protective instinct he had for her prevented him to do so. In fact, staring at those innocent hazel eyes made him feel slightly weak in the knees and all he wanted to do was just hug her and keep her safe.

‘ _You’re disgusting, brother. Soon Adar is going to kick you out._ ’

Elrohir grinned at hearing Dan’s grumble in his head.

‘ _Keep glaring at me like that and I bet twenty pence that Adar will kick you out too,’_ replied Elrohir.

‘ _Make it double. I have been listening to the reports—unlike you.’_

_‘Deal.’_

“Out.”

The sound of the stern command from Lord Elrond snapped both of them, along with the rest of the council members.

“Milord?” questioned Erestor in confusion. The only person who didn’t seem surprised was Glorfindel. The elf warrior with lush golden hair wasn’t trying very hard to hide his amusement. Elladan frowned when he saw him smirk.

“Apology for the interruption, _mellon_ (friend). I was talking to my sons,” Lord Elrond shot the twins his almighty elf lord look and with another stern voice, he commanded, “Get out. Both of you.”

The rest of the council member were either trying to hide their smile or sighing softly. They were thinking of the same thing: Warriors their young lords might be, but they hadn’t really grown up from their childhood.

“ _Adar_ , I was trying to get Elrohir to—”

Elladan stopped himself mid speech when he saw the deep frown on his _adar’s_ face, along with the twitch on his forehead. That wasn’t a good sign. Defeatedly, he got up from his seat and exited the court with Elrohir.

“I believe you owe me…” Elrohir on purposely made a gesture of counting with his hand, “…forty pence for that. Pay up.”

Elladan scowled at seeing Ro’s smug face. He reached down to the hidden pocket in his robe. “A bet is a bet,” he murmured quite unhappily as he paid up the wager.

There was a bright, brilliant smile on Elrohir’s smile as he received the coins. “Isn’t today my lucky day? I get to get off the meetings early while at the same time earning a few good coins for my hard work. See you at dinner, Dan,” whistled Elrohir, tossing the coins in his hand as he sauntered away.

“Wait, where are you going?” Dan didn’t see Ro smiling to himself, but he concluded the answer rather quickly. “You scoundrel,” grumbled Elladan, “You planned this. You make us get kicked out just so you can go to see her.”

“Genius, isn’t it?”

“At my expense?” protested Elladan.

“Oh, please. You were thinking about riding with your horse the whole meeting. You couldn’t wait to get away too.”

Elladan folded his arms in front of his chest. “Fine,” grunted the older twin, “In that case I’m coming with you.”

Elrohir sharply turned around and held up a hand. “Brother. You cannot come with me.”

“Why?”

“As soon as the meeting ends, Adar would try to find us. You know now how important it is for me to find Wanda… there’s much to discuss—orcs! She needed to be reminded that the border is currently not very safe.”

“She lives far from the border,” countered Elladan with a roll of his eyes.

“Remember our rule. We cover each other’s back,” convinced Elrohir, raising an eyebrow. “You owe me the last time I cover for you when you excused yourself from meeting the daughters of Lothlorien. Remember?”

Elladan sighed defeatedly. “Fine. But be back before sundown. I cannot cover for you for long. _Adar_ is not in a good mood today.”

Elrohir grinned like a Cheshire cat, slapping his brother’s shoulder happily. “ _Hannon le_ (thank you) _,_ brother,” he thanked Elladan before turning away and walked with a long, determined strides.

“Bring something for me from the market!” called out Elladan which was responded with an ok gesture from his younger brother.

***

Wanda carefully inserted the small thread into the needle. Her nimble hands worked with agility to tie off the end of the thread. She resumed the stitches along the border of an exquisite deep obsidian dress with quite a jaw dropping low cut on its neck.

“This is a beautiful dress, mama,” she complimented Etheriel, who looked up from her work and beamed at Wanda, “It’s quite a brave dress for an _elleth_ , but beautiful nonetheless. Who orders this? They must be very rich,” commented Wanda with a hint of drama in her tone.

“Ohh, rich indeed!” exclaimed Etheriel to her adopted daughter with a bit of gleeful drama in her voice, making Wanda chuckle. “One of the guests in the House of Elrond ordered this. I think she’s from Lothlorien. Whatever it is, I bet she’s planning to charm her entrance to the feast of starlight next week.”

“With this dress, she definitely will,” agreed Wanda. “Where will the feast be held?”

“The House of Elrond, sister. Where else would it be?” chirped Belethiel, chirping in to the conversation. “Can you imagine? These ellith from across Arda coming in to try to charm their way into the hearts of our single young lords?” Belethiel sighed dramatically, “It would be like a bloodbath in the house of Elrond.”

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle at Belethiel’s remark. She joined the chorus of giggle of the two _ellith_ , sneakily hiding the anxiety in the pit of her stomach that started to grow.

Elrohir was out of her league. How was she suppose to compete with all these girls?

Wanda glanced at Belethiel, admiring how beautiful and kind she was. She had no doubt that the girls that Belethiel talked about would be just like that. Probably richer, grander, but also as kind as Belethiel. After all, the elven race seemed to always be graceful and held their values and moral in high esteem.

“Lucky for me, I have Rubin already,” Belethiel’s voice suddenly reduced into a sweet daydreaming tone, earning smiles from Wanda and Etheriel. Belethiel smiled back at them whilst running her pale hands on the bulge on her stomach, “…and this little one.”

For a while, Wanda forgot her anxiety. The dreamy expression that was on Belethiel’s face was mirrored to Wanda’s as she walked over to her adopted sister and held out a hand to gently feel her stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet her. She will be beautiful like you, Belethiel,” Wanda sighed happily.

“Or,” their mama came closer, also putting her hand on Belethiel’s stomach, “Grandson. Imagine little Rubin running around.”

The sound of the ladies giggling filled the small house located in the village near the city of Rivendell.

Wanda didn’t eat much for lunch. After she was done helping her mama, she used Belethiel’s pregnancy as an excuse to go. Again, to find healthy, nutritious wild fruits as a means to escape to the forest.

She had grown to love both Etheriel and Belethiel, even her husband Rubin. They were nothing short of gracious and especially kind to her. Etheriel had become that mother figure to her; and Belethiel, the sister she never had. They shared everything, even in poverty. They were happy, content in their simple lives. They made her happy. But there was always a part of her that she couldn’t shake off: the part that say that she didn’t belong. That the real her wouldn’t be accepted anywhere in this world.

Wanda entered deeper to the forest. Having ventured the forest for more than six years, she knew the layout of the forest very well. She walked through the tall trees, their evergreen leaves rustling gently by the wind, shading her from the offending sunlight. She drew in the pristine air of the elven realm, letting calm seep into her being. She could smell the tress around her mingled with the scent of the fresh, fertile soil.

If she could only choose a word to describe the land, she would say that this land was blessed.

The more she ventured deep into forest, the more she got closer to the border. If she wasn’t being careful she might venture too far and be out of the protective magic that kept the dark creatures off the land. But she knew just how far she was allowed to go safely. Afterall, she didn’t feel like meeting the orcs again anytime soon.

She turned west, and soon she could hear the sound of the calm water, calling her. A smile made its way to her face as she passed through a slightly denser foliage. And when she got through, she found herself in front of an untouched, beautiful spring.

Wanda gazed at the beauty of the hidden resting place with reverence, silently admiring it before setting down her empty basket and began to stripped herself off of her clothes.

She jumped.

The cool, crystal water hit her face, suddenly blanketing her from the rest of the world. From her worries. There was quite a small current inside the spring, and it took her a while to get out of the water. But when she did, there was a huge, carefree smile on her face—one that she never shown to the world. She wiped her eyes and began to swim playfully around the water.

Her peaceful escapade soon ended when she heard shuffling noises behind the thick foliage where she came from.

She froze in the water. Her alarmed eyes searched her surroundings. Another noise heightened her senses, causing her hands to twitch under the water. If this was an attack, she would be in a disadvantage; she was naked. Skinny dipping alone, deep in the forest made her an easy, unsuspecting target. She began to recall her training: she shouldn’t be putting herself out here, in the open, vulnerable.

“ _Blyat_ (Damn it),” she cursed under her breath in her mother tongue. Her shoulder tensed as she prepared to defend herself.

A rather fat squirrel jumped down from a tree with a thud, then scurried with its little feet and disappeared behind the foliage. Wanda released a relieved breath and immediately relaxed. She decided that it wasn’t best for her to linger out here anymore. Besides, she had her fill already.

She got out of the water and rather quickly put on her clothes, not even bothering to wait to dry herself up. Her empty fruit basket sat there on the ground—it was about time she started her fruit search, else she might lose the li—

A high pitched screech rang in her ears before a weight suddenly threw her back towards the water with a huge splash. She choked on water. Instinctively she kicked her way out of the water, but something held her foot down.

An ugly, wicked creature glared back up at her underwater. It hissed, baring his teeth at her while its bony hand firmly gripped her ankle. Her scream was muffled by the water. She shot a red ball of energy towards the dark creature. Being free of it, she tapped into her powers for the first time in six years and shot herself out of the water, tumbling unto the ground.

Another screech tore through the air; this time she could hear running footsteps from the forest. At least a dozen of them. She didn’t know how, but they managed to get past the protective border.

Something whizzed past her left ear.

Driven by adrenaline, she ran.

Her heart hammered against her chest. She no longer cared that she was soaking wet or that she had left her mama’s fruit basket behind.

The forest soon became a blur of green as she sprinted away from the enemy. One by one, the goblins caught up with her. But she never stopped. She bent and waved her hand, sending red spheres of energy towards any incoming attack. All seemed manageable until more of the creature showed up and charged at her. Almost a dozen of them jumped to her blind side at the same time while she was too preoccupied. Soon she was overpowered. She felt her skin crawl as slimy hands and feet of the goblins—their sharp nails, creeped up against her, pulling at her arm. Her clothes. Her hair.

She was overwhelmed, both with fear and disgust.

She let out a scream as they held up her hands, attempting to pin her to the ground. She was tempted to give up, to cover her head and rolled into a ball—

But she was an avenger. She overpowered Thanos and almost had him—almost. These lowly creatures were nothing to her. Nothing. If Natasha or Steve see her quitting like this…

With a renewed determination, she tapped into the power that she long have tried to abandon. With a roar, a burst of scarlet energy exploded out of her, sending the goblins thrown by the sheer power of it.

Another collective screeching. This time, she successfully pissed them off. Now on her feet, she rained scarlet energy upon them. Her once hazel eyes glowed ruby, reflecting anger in her chest.

To her, these creatures are bullies. And she refused to be bullied again.

“No more,” she growled dangerously, tearing and ripping the creatures apart with her power.

It ended quickly. By the time she was finished, she found herself surrounded by the whole hoard of dead goblins. At least forty, fifty rotten corpse spread around the once serene forest. Black blood marring the leaves and the ground around it. Her heart thumped against her chest at the scene that she caused.

She shouldn’t be here.

She jogged away, trying to get away from the scene as far as possible, but soon she was breathless. Wanda slowed herself down, briefly examining herself. She was still wet from the fall in the spring. Various scratches from goblins’ sharp nails torn her dress and skin. Then there was at least two deep cuts caused by the goblins’ daggers.

“ _Bozhe moi_ (My goodness)…” she murmured breathlessly. She had been stuck in Middle Earth long enough to know the effect of goblins’ poisoned blade.

She had to get home.

***

[ **Author’s Note** : And that, people, is why skinny dipping is not exactly a good idea. Especially in a natural setting. So how’s the chapter? I need feedbacks. What do you think of the story line? Am I moving too fast, too slow? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section. Thankyou for reading and leaving a ❤️ or ⭐! More Wanda x Elrohir coming up next!]


	3. Awaken Memory

Elrohir rode Gilroc, his white stallion, in a moderate pace as he ventured out of the house of Rivendell. He proceeded towards the city, the sound of Gilroc’s hooves draped across the cobblestone path warned the people around him of an incoming rider. They instinctively made a way for the young lord of Rivendell as he rode past the market.

“Lord Elrohir! Hi!!” cheered a small elfling, drawing his attention. Elrohir smiled his boyish smile at the young elfling who was waving his hand at him, his mother holding his other tiny hand.

“Gwithron!” Elrohir called back, “Eat your salad and listen to your _nana_ (mother)! She knows best!” He rode past by the elfling but not before giving him a playful wink. The elfling giggled and continued waving.

The exchange between the two earned smiles from the elves passing by. The family of Lord Elrond was always loved by the people of Rivendell. The twins, particularly; it was easy to love them.

Elrohir continued riding towards the outskirts of the city and entered the forest. His heart was giddy at the prospect of surprising Wanda and to lay his eye upon her face again. This time he doesn’t need to hide his feelings from her anymore. The ear to ear smile seemed like it was forever engraved on his expression. He had never known other that could make his heart sing like she did.

After a while he began to realize that something was amiss. He slowed down his horse and eventually stood still. Listening.

Elrohir scanned the trees. His cool grey eyes searching as alarm rose behind his mind. The young twin instinctively put his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was silent. Too silent. He couldn’t hear the trees singing; not even a whisper of their music.

Instantly, his eagerness to see Wanda in the forest dissipated. The silence from the trees in the elven realm signaled only one thing: Danger.

Elrohir unsheathed his elven sword. “ _Noro lim_ (run) _. Noro lim_ , Gilroc!” he commanded his horse in Sindarin. With a neigh, the white stallion jumped on its rear feet and started to ride hard.

He ventured deeper into the forest, his elven senses heightened. He felt a sense of familiar darkness—orcs. The anger and hatred that had haunted him for centuries resurfaced.

He was ready to kill when he smelled them, but was met with bodies. Not orcs, but goblins. Elrohir dismounted his stallion as he inspected the scene before him. Looked like someone had gotten there first to take care of the dark creatures.

The sound of horse hooves draping closer entered his elven ears even from afar. Elladan, dressed in his patrol armor got to him first, grey eyes alarmed as he scanned the dead bodies.

“I got your message,” said Elladan as he dismounted his own black stallion. “They’ve gotten past the border,” he concluded, a disturbed look on his face.

“Maybe I should have listened to Erestor this morning,” said Elrohir gritting his teeth. “Someone else came here first. But this,” he kicked a body and turned it with his boot, “This is not our doing. Not our border patrol.”

Elladan covered his nose from the dead goblin stench as he crouched down to look at the mutilated body. “Not a clean cut. Not of our blade. Or any blade that I know for that matter,” he observed before standing back up on his feet.

An ominous nod from Elrohir. “It is as if they were… stretched to death.”

Both twins stood and looked down at the dead bodies, a new concern rose in their mind.

Elladan was first to break the silence between them. “I’ve alerted the scout before I came here. An additional border patrol team is going to be here soon to secure the area.”

Elrohir nodded.

“Did you manage to meet Wanda? I hope she wasn’t around today,” said Elladan with a frown.

Elrohir turned his head sharply towards the mirror image of himself. “I have to find her. Make sure she’s unharmed,” said Elrohir with a clenched jaw as he strode towards Gilroc.

“I’ll come with you.”

***

A knock was heard on the wooden door of her tiny house. Another knock. Then another. Etheriel shared a confused look with her daughter.

“I don’t recall having a guest today.”

“Whoever it is they seemed to be in a hurry. Someone must have a serious wardrobe malfunction,” joked Belethiel with a grin on her face.

Etheriel let out a chuckle of amusement as she got up from her seat, leaving her work behind and floated towards the door. When she opened it, she could hardly believe who were standing before her.

They both were an exact mirror to the other, except for their attire. They stood tall before her, their build was strong and durable. Agile, yet deadly when they want to. Fighters. One was dressed in a full armor with a rich silver cape draped behind his back. The other dressed in a simple yet elegant white riding tunic and a pair of leather boots over his brown leggings. Being a skilled seamstress, Etheriel couldn’t help but admire the richness of the fabric of their clothing—worthy of the sons of Lord Elrond. Standing here in front of her humble home, the handsome twin brothers seemed out of place.

Elrohir opened his mouth to say something, but Elladan beat him to it.

“ _A! Le suilon_ (I greet you),” greet Elladan with a formal, polite smile to Etheriel.

“Oh! What an honor to have your visit, Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir!” she greeted back with a bow, though she didn’t know which one was Elladan and which one was Elrohir.

Elladan offered her a genuine smile. “We are friends of Wanda. Please call us Elrohir,” he gestured to his brother, then placed a hand on his chest, “…and Elladan. Wanda speaks very highly of you. _Mae govannen_ (well met), Etheriel.”

Etheriel was lost for words. The male that Wanda had been meeting secretly in the forest…

Before Etheriel could answer, Elrohir cut her.

“We were just passing by. We were wondering if she is home,” said Elrohir, forcing a small smile to hide his growing anxiety.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elladan slight nod of approval. Elrohir almost straight out interrogate Etheriel, too eager to know if Wanda was safe. But luckily Elladan intercepted first, reminding Elrohir not to cause unnecessary panic to Wanda’s family.

“She left hours ago after lunchtime to the forest to collect some fruits,” replied Etheriel. “The sun is almost down. She should be home very soon.”

Elrohir paled at hearing the answer, but Elladan maintained his collected expression and nodded. Having sensed his brother’s sudden spike of anxiousness and concern, Elladan spoke up and gently wrapped up their visit quickly.

“That is too bad we missed her. Unfortunately we must go too, so would you be so kind to let her know that we dropped by?”

***

Wanda could no longer walk. Her feet was bleeding because of her run through the forest. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her shoes. Fatigue and pain forced her to resort to crawling on the forest floor, still trying to get home. It felt like she had been going in circles; she no longer understand the layout of the forest. The place was unrecognizable to her.

Her breathing gradually become ragged as she dragged herself, refusing to stay behind and rest. She knew that if she did, she’d die. The key to survival was to keep moving.

Her ears were ringing and the sting on her cuts began to burn angrier by the minutes. She began to gasp, forcing air to fill her constricted lungs.

Just as she began to lose all the light in her eyes, she saw a blurry vision of dried leaves on the ground being stomped off by horses’ hooves.

A pair of warm arms surrounded her and when they turned her, she was faced with the view of the person that she thought she was never going to see again.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he said with his calming British accent. A look of remorse and concern painted across his man-made face.

“Me too,” replied Wanda, her eyes began to sting as she laid her eyes upon his ruby skin. A yellow jewel rested on top of his forehead.

“ _It is as I said_ ,” he gently brushed the skin on her cheek, “ _Catastrophe_.”

Her sight slowly became a tunnel vision, and before long, she was momentarily blind.

***

Elrohir and Elladan had split up to cover more ground in their search for her, but Elrohir found her first.

Seeing Wanda crawling on the ground, dress tattered and stained with blood made his blood boil inside his vein. He dismounted his horse urgently, but even the movement still managed to look graceful—the blessings of the elves, something that humans don’t have.

“Wanda! _Odulen_ (I’m here)!”

With such gentleness, the elf warrior turned her body around. With deep concern on his expression he studied her face. She was awake, but not actually present.

“Me too…” she mumbled, hazel eyes seemed paled as a look of confusion and remorse etched across her face.

He nodded, frantic, forgetting the fact that she didn’t actually speak Sindarin to be able to respond to him. Her pale skin were glistening with cold sweat, eyes refusing to meet his.

“Can you hear me, _guren vell_ (sweet heart)?” he shook her lightly.

Wanda didn’t answer right away. Immediately he glanced at her body, noticing cuts here and there, all the way to her bare feet. He was sure that she was attacked by the goblins, and it sent rage smoldering inside his chest.

“I looked into your head…”

Elrohir snapped his cool grey eyes back to her face, not understanding her words.

She drew a sharp intake of air and writhed, murmuring confusedly, “And I saw annihilation…”

Elrohir cupped her cheek, now realizing he was missing something. She was hallucinating.

Cursing under his breath, his eyes scanned her body again—and there on the side of her arm, he saw it. A gash was no longer bleeding, yet it had turned the veins around it green.

“Manwe’s breath…” he said with dread across his face. With a renewed sense of urgency, Elrohir quickly scooped her up in his arms. He was gently setting her up on his horse while Elladan caught up to him.

Seeing the state in which his female friend was in, Elladan was quick to unclasped the pin that held his cape secure behind him and proceeded to give it to Elrohir. Without question, the younger brother took the cape and wrapped it around her fragile, shaky form.

“Goblin’s poison,” Elrohir briefed his brother.

The easy, rather mischievous smile that usually graced Ro’s feature was gone, replaced with a deep frown that hinted deep concern and a hidden anger. The anger that Elladan also felt inside his own chest.

The dark creatures once tortured and ripped their beloved mother from them. And now this. Unacceptable. They will die for that. Elladan’s knuckles turned white as he held the rein of his horse tighter. Without more question, he led the way, riding hard before Elrohir to make way for him.

“Move! Make way!”

The command in Lord Elrond’s oldest son’s voice sounded throughout the market. The crowd swiftly broke apart, clearing the path at the urgency of their lord’s command. Elladan rode past, followed by his brother, who was riding his horse with a wounded mortal woman in front of him.

“Hold on, Wanda. Almost there,” he whispered softly to her, concern swimming in his grey eyes.

Wanda floated in and out of consciousness. In the haze of her hallucinations, she heard him.

“Elrohir…” she murmured weakly, her head bumping slightly against his chest at the movement of the horse beneath her, “…You…came for me…”

She almost toppled forward, but his strong arm draped around her front, keeping her close to him. The warmth radiating off of his body relaxed her a bit.

“Of course I do,” he replied softly to her ear in a playful way, though there was sadness lingered the deep, smooth voice of his.

The side of Wanda’s lips turned up into a weak smile. She rested the back of her head against his neck and forced her eyes open. From this angle, she could freely ogle his masculine beauty.

What a magnificent sight he was. Long, silky dark hair blew softly against the graceful plane of his face. Flawless skin, high cheekbone and a set of determined, sculpted jaw spoke of his strength. His liquid grey eyes set forward, burning even in its coolness. He was the portrait of an angel.

Fighting against her fatigue, Wanda lifted up a hand to hold his arm in front of her. Elrohir threw her a worried glance when he felt her touch, his heart broke inside him to see her looking up at him through her long, wet lashes stained with blood.

“My hero.”

He returned her weak smile with a pained smile of his own. But as soon as it came, his smile instantly disappeared when Wanda’s head suddenly hung against his arm. He felt her weight rested completely against him and the storm inside his heart raged on.

Feeling his brother’s unspoken anguish, Elladan kicked the sides of his horse harder, urging the animal to move faster.

‘ _We’re almost there, brother_ ,’ he sent the comforting thought to Elrohir through their bond as he urged his black stallion to run.

The sight of his sons riding home hard with an unconscious passenger on one of their horses brought a painful memory to Lord Elrond. Suddenly he was back to centuries ago when his sons returned home after rescuing their mother.

 _Oh, Celebrian_ , he thought as he remember his beautiful wife. Not centuries, nor millennia could ever rid him from the torment of losing the love of his life to the hands of the orcs.

On the outside, Lord Elrond was the picture of calm and collectedness. He had to for the sake of his people.

“What ails her?” he inquired as Elrohir dismounted his horse before carefully taking the unconscious woman into his arms with Glorfindel’s help.

Elladan dismounted his horse and swiftly came to his _adar_ , presenting a rough short blade marred with a black substances. “Goblin’s poison.”

The lord of Rivendell took the dagger and studied it. Before his eyes, his son stood with the unconscious woman draped against his chest.

Lord Elrond’s eyes met Elrohir’s. The same desperation that the young elf had in his eyes when he had came home from rescuing his mother was now present. Along with it, anger, and something else he didn’t see coming: Love.

“Please save her, _adar_ ,” pleaded Elrohir, begging with his eyes.

A look of undivided focus and calculation graced his father’s aging yet young face. “Bring her to the healing room.”

***

[ **Author’s Note** : I skipped work to finish this chapter. I rescheduled of course hehehehe. So what do you think of the chapter? Meh or yeah? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below and thanks for reading and voting! Bonus: Picture is Elladan & Elrohir (just one picture because… twins) Stay tuned!]


	4. The House of Elrond

“ _I… can’t do this anymore_ ,” grunted the Scarlet Witch, supporting her weight on her elbow and knees but not getting up. Not with her muscles screaming in pain at the abuse that her body had received.

Natasha’s training had been hard. The redheaded spy had knocked her down for probably a hundredth time today. Wanda was panting for air, aching all over her body while Natasha herself was barely breaking a sweat.

“ _I can’t ever beat you without my power,_ ” Wanda admitted, looking at the power dampener that encircled her hand. Her head hung down in defeat. If Pietro could see her right now, he would be very disappointed.

A pair of dark blue boots pass her view.

“ _Who are you without your power, Wanda?_ ” asked Steve. “ _What are you without all the enhancements that HYDRA gave you?”_

Her spirit plummeted down her stomach at the simple question. “ _I…I don’t know_.” She looked up, her hazel eyes meeting Captain America’s deep blue ones.

“ _If you are nothing without your power, then you don’t deserve that power_ ,” said the Captain as he walked towards the edge of the sparring mat to study her from a distance.

“ _That red ball thingy that you can shoot from your hands isn’t the only thing that makes you an Avenger,_ ” Natasha’s silky voice was heard, adding to Steve’s statement. “ _We’re humans, Maximoff. We don’t learn from our best achievements. We learn from our mistakes.”_

“ _No matter what world you live in, there will always be bullies. They will always try to knock you down. Even with your power._ ” For a moment Steve Rogers’ blue eyes were wondering, as if being lost in the past, “ _But you can’t give them the pleasure of letting them know that they beat you down. You gotta push back.”_

The female assassin that had kicked her ass crouched in front of Wanda, a small smirk etched across her pretty face. “ _You get knocked down, you get back up. You show us that you are more than what HYDRA gave you. So what do you say, soldier?_ ”

Wanda looked at the hand that Natasha had offered for her. With a renewed strength, she lifted her arm and took the female spy’s hand firmly. Natasha’s smile grew wider.

“ _Show me what you got_ ,” said Natasha with her disarming smirk stretched across her face as she helped her back up.

“Nat!”

She jerked up from her sleep. For a moment Wanda thought she was about to go through some more training with the redheaded spy. Funny enough, her body did feel exactly like she felt in her dream—or memory—: Beaten. Bruised.

But then she looked around her, at the beautiful room dominated with white, cream and a little bit of gold here and there. Intricately designed room held a lavish engraving of the elf kind that she was now familiar of: the insignia of Rivendell.

The memory of what happened to her last came back to her. Along with it, was the fact that Natasha was gone and that she was alone in this world. Without the backup of her team.

Natasha’s smirk from her dream was still remained at the back of her mind, leaving a pang of loss in her chest. Wanda had never imagined that she would ever miss her difficult training. But here she was, hoping that she could turn back the time and be in that training room with her teammates.

She looked around her room, taking in the rather luxurious elvish interior within her space. Sitting up, she let her hands grazed the silky sheets beneath her. The only time she ever felt such rich, luxurious fabric was in the Stark Tower. She got up and walked towards the beautiful vanity in the room. She was wearing a simple ivory dress that was more expensive than anything she had ever worn since Middle Earth. The wounds on her arm was bandaged neatly, and though she could feel her body aching slightly, the scratches on her skin was almost fading.

When she finally braved herself to get out of the room, she was left speechless.

Her mama and Belethiel did tell her stories about the elven town, but Rivendell itself was much much more beautiful that she could ever imagine. It was located at the edge of a narrow gorge of the life giving Bruinen River. From where she was she could see the whole town, surrounded by beautiful waterfalls with water as pure as crystal. The foothills of the Misty Mountains provided a breathtaking, natural fortress around the town with a hell of a view.

Even Stark’s Tower in all its luxury was pale in comparison to Rivendell.

“I’ve seen that look before. It never gets old.”

The melodious voice of an elf entered her ears. Wanda turned and bowed her head slightly, returning the elf’s kind smile.

“It’s… This place is the most beautiful place I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It’s so… peaceful.”

This comment seemed to be received well by the elf whose smile stretched wider as he too, scanned the view fondly before them.

“Aye,” nodded the elf, his eyes fond yet slightly melancholy as he followed Wanda’s gaze to the city, “This place was built as a shelter. A place of peace and rest to all. At least that was the purpose.”

Wanda sensed the opposite was implied between the lines, but before she could make up her mind on whether to ask about it or not, the good looking yet mature elf before her cut her train of thoughts.

“It is good to see you able to be back on your feet. How are you faring, child?”

Wanda took a moment to analyze the elf before her. Like all elves, he was extremely beautiful and youthful, yet upon closer inspection, something in his eyes reflected certain wisdom that could only come from centuries of experience. A simple yet elegant silver circlet rested on top of his head over long, dark hair that reminded Wanda of Elrohir’s. The elf wore a beautiful silver robe over a rich dark blue tunic and she was quick to assume that he was probably an important figure in the house of Elrond.

But despite the grandeur and the way that the elf carried himself, something else caught her eye. For a while, she imagined there was something inside the blue gem that adorned the gold ring around his finger. She strained her eyes to look closely, but when the owner of the ring shifted and hid the ring under his long robe and away from her view, it immediately snapped her eyes back up to his face. She blushed.

“I feel better. Thank you,” she said quickly to cover up for her awkwardness. She was uncertain on how to continue, but eventually found her words. “I was wounded, but someone brought me here and I just woke up and there was no one. I don’t know who to thank for taking care of me.”

The elf granted her a polite smile, yet his intelligent eyes were studying her. “Wanda, yes?”

“That’s me,” she replied, feeling a little exposed under his calculating though not unkind eyes. “I assume Elrohir told you.”

“Yes. Seems like my sons have taken interest in you, Wanda, especially Elrohir. He is worried about you.”

“We have become really good friends lately…” she trailed before noticing something. “Lord Elrond,” she realized.

The elf smiled, “That’s me,” he responded, copying her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” she said apologetically. “Thank you for receiving me here and for your kind help.”

“’Tis a pleasure to know that my house has served its purpose. A refuge for the weary and the oppressed.”

Wanda’s smile turned a bit sour. “Those goblins were oppressive indeed.”

Lord Elrond studied the female carefully, but with no small amount of respect. He noticed how the female didn’t seem to be mentally affected by her close call encounter with the goblins. Unlike most elven people, humans mostly have that stubborn heart and strong mentality; something that never cease to impress him about mortals. Vain they might be, but as tough as a nail, one could even say stubborn. It was seldom for elves to be able to handle trauma well, especially an untrained soldier.

“It is a wonder that you survived such an attack on your own,” he said, lifting a hand as a gesture towards her bandaged arm. “May I?”

Wanda swallowed thickly at his comment, yet coolly answered. “Sure.”

Lord Elrond carefully unwrapped the bandage around her arm, studying it. His eyes flickered to the mortal’s face when she wasn’t looking before working deliberately slower to wrap the bandages back.

“There were forty seven goblins found at the western border,” said the lord of Rivendell, the crease at the center of his forehead deepened with worry, “Our border patrols found them all dead.”

Wanda was quick to answer to the question in his statement. “Someone was there. I don’t know who. I didn’t see them,” she lied. “If they weren’t there, I would surely die long before I was found.”

Lord Elrond looked up to her face, nodding thoughtfully. “You were extremely fortunate. And whoever they are who came to your aid seemed to wield some form of magic.”

Here we go gain with the ‘magic’. Wanda reminded herself to tread carefully from now on. She didn’t want her hard work to build a life here be jeopardized. This was exactly the beginning of what had happened to Rohan. They didn’t accept her for her magic. They labeled her as a witch and forced her to disappear. Now for the sake of her foster family and what she had just beginning to have with Elrohir, she wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Magic?” questioned Wanda, “What kind of magic?”

“A powerful one. They tore the goblins like a piece of meat on a platter,” he explained as he finished up rewrapping her bandage. “I just wish to know that this individual do not mean harm to my people.”

Wanda was tempted to answer it, to let him know that she would never. But she kept her mouth shut, knowing that it shouldn’t be her place to answer for her made up rescuer.

“ _Wanda_!”

Just in time, a familiar voice cut their rather tense conversation—at least to Wanda, and before she knew it, she was already staring at a couple of silver grey eyes that searched her with anxiety swimming in them.

“Elrohir,” she said with sigh, feeling somewhat relieved to see him and to evade the chance the respond at Lord Elrond’s statement. “I’m okay,” she reassured him, for once both of them seemed to forget that the Lord of Imladris was watching their exchange.

It took the dark haired elf in front of her a while to actually believed her. And when he did, he pulled her into a hug, one that was warm but careful. She sighed silently, reveling on his embrace, but when she opened her eyes, she was met with Lord Elrond’s eyes on her and his older twin son, who was grinning mockingly at her and Ro.

The female immediately became self conscious under the gaze of the Lord of Imladris. And though she immensely enjoyed her lover’s attention, she pulled away, clearing her throat slightly to remind Ro about his father’s presence.

Still with his archer hands on both of her arms, Elrohir looked at his Adar and bowed his head to acknowledge him. Lord Elrond ever so slightly raised an eyebrow of his; he never saw his particularly playful son seemed so distraught and anxious about any female before. Meanwhile, Elladan shot the both of them his best smug, condescending grin.

“Well…” murmured Lord Elrond as he lightly shifted his gaze between the two of them, “I shall be in my study if anyone needs me.”

Elrohir was a little surprised to see his Adar walked away so easily without interrogating him, but nevertheless was thrilled to be able to talk to Wanda in peace.

“Are you really okay? Are you in any pain? Oh, Valar, you poor thing! Look at that hideous bruise on your face! And that cut—it looks really painful,” he ranted with concern heavy in his expression as he lightly touch a part of the skin on her face that wasn’t wounded. Wanda couldn’t help but smile in amusement and took his hand away from her face. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Calm down, Ro. I’m fine.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

She nodded, still smiling lightly at the way Elrohir concerned eyes searching her.

“She’s fine, mother,” teased another voice belonged to a face that was a copy of Elrohir. Elladan grinned at Wanda as he placed his arm around Wanda’s shoulders, reminding them that he was still there. This gesture irked Elrohir to no end, and Elladan was pleased with the fact.

“Get your hands off of her, she’s mine,” grumbled Elrohir as he pushed his older twin’s hand off of her and replaced it with his own.

“Technically I found her first,” countered Elladan sassily, referencing to their first time meeting her. Elladan knew full well that his brother was thoroughly annoyed and slightly jealous when he touched Wanda lately; and he enjoyed making his little brother suffer once in a while.

“You make me sound like a stray puppy you found on the road,” complained Wanda half heartedly, though her amusement wasn’t missed by the twins.

Elladan’s laughter drew some of the passing elves’ attention. While most elves found it curious and amusing, Elrohir was less thrilled about it and seemingly impatient with Elladan. Ro shook his head, as if refocusing himself before turning his attention back to Wanda.

“Tell me what happened,” he suddenly demanded, and Wanda never quite saw Elorhir looked so disturbed with a crinkle as if etched permanently between his neat, thick brows. “We found you injured, wandering and mumbling mindlessly with goblins poison in your veins. Dying.”

Wanda remained silent as she waited for Ro to continue. She hated to lie, especially to Ro, but for the sake of her new life here… She had to. “I was attacked,” she swallowed.

“You have no idea how much I thank the Valars right now that you survived,” Ro reassured her, “But how?”

Wanda could not lie to him and stared into his crystalline grey eyes at the same time, so she looked down as if observing the bandage on her arm, “I thought I wouldn’t make it as well. But someone came. Then I remember nothing.”

“Did you get a look at this someone?” wondered Elladan, now looking equally as serious as Ro, “They might be doing you a favor by attacking those dark creatures, but the way they handled the goblins… It’s like the work of the same force of darkness from which these vile creatures came from.”

Wanda felt paralyzed. She didn’t know that such neutral opinion uttered by Elladan could be so sharp and painful in her chest. She was both appalled and hurt at the same time by Dan’s concerned statement.

 _Darkness_. No matter where she goes, which world or time she runs to, her past sins and darkness always seemed to eventually caught up to her.

“Maybe it is,” mumbled Wanda softly, now her fingers trembled slightly at the thought of them knowing about her powers. They would hate her. They would banish her. They would despise and fear her.

“I’m sorry.” A gentle yet firm fingers lifted her chin, softly tugging her downcast face up to look at his face. Ro saw how her face had turned slightly pale, her gentle, hazel eyes slightly glassy with moisture and he mistook it as trauma. “I—we shouldn’t have pushed you with all these questions. I’m just glad you came back to me in one piece.”

Wanda nodded, but still too stunned to utter a word.

“Let me take you back to the healing chamber,” he said to Wanda with a brief look towards his twin who nod once in understanding.

“Rest well, _sister_.”

Wanda didn’t know if the word ‘sister’ was meant to tease her or not; but before the Avenger could look at Elladan’s face, the elf warrior prince had already turned and walked away.

That afternoon the two lovebirds walked hand in hand to her chamber, and upon feeling her slightly trembling lips as he kissed her goodbye, he left her to rest.

He never asked about what happened again and now even seemed to avoid the subject altogether when being near her. Though it was sweet, Wanda didn’t feel too good about letting Ro assumed that she was some kind of damsel in distress. For a while she kept telling herself to just enjoy his attention and affection. Maybe after all the war and losses she endured, Ro was her reward. Her second chance.

Little did she know that second chances comes with second trials.

***

[ **Author’s Note** : First of all… _lame closing line_ XD But hey, at least I updated a chapter! Clearly my writing is rusty. Tell me what you think in the comments and see you on the next chappie! Tons of love and kisses to my readers ❤️ You’re awesome and you deserved better than my slow updates! (Sorry about that anyway). Bye!]


	5. Prince & Princess of Woodland

Wanda should probably saw it coming. With the border being breached and her family living so close to it, the twins would definitely make it their mission to relocate Wanda plus her mama and sister into The House of Rivendell.

“Just until it’s safe,” murmured Elrohir whilst chewing on his breakfast.

“Until when will it be safe for us to return?”

“Until further notice,” chirped Elladan cryptically just before catching a grape that Ro tossed carelessly towards him, expertly catching it with his mouth.

“Score!” grinned Elrohir to the warrior elf with golden hair next to him who shared a not little amount of amused grin on his face.

Wanda sighed and anxiously began to bit her nails. “It’s very kind of you and your father to let us stay, but—”

“—we can’t ask this from you,” continued Etheriel, finishing her sentence, “It’s too much. We wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

Wanda looked at her foster mother and sister’s sincere faces. She knew that their family was poor, and to be invited to live in the House of Elrond, let alone by the princes themselves, was a huge honor. But as poor as they may be, they still worked to manage their own keep and did their best to not burden anyone. They still managed to be happy, content, honorable, and most of all—kind.

Wanda’s heart swell with pride as she gazed at her now family in this world. How could she be so lucky?

Wanda watched as Elladan, the one sitting closest to her mama, reached out his hands and gently squeezed her smaller ones. “My dear Etheriel, your presence is no trouble at all for us. Besides, you’re not asking, we’re offering. You’re fine,” he reassured her with the gentlest and the sincerest way possible, a look that Wanda seldom saw on the older, playful prankster. Her heart melted, but soon it dissipated when she saw Dan sent her a brief yet troubling smirk, “Besides, my little brother is nothing but thrilled to have your daughter around.”

Said female suddenly felt her cheek heated up as soon as her foster sister and mother turned their attention towards her with a curious glint in their eyes. She knew just how nosy her mama and pregnant sister were and she couldn’t help but shove more bread into her mouth and chew anxiously.

While Wanda was clearly stress eating, Elrohir instead gave her family his most unabashed, charming smile.

If Elladan didn’t know his little brother very well, the older twin brother wouldn’t notice the way Elrohir sneakily fidgeted with his favorite honey cake that would otherwise be cleaned off from his plate— _oh, lover boy is clearly flushing mentally under the gaze of Wanda’s family,_ thought Elladan rather amusedly _._

“I cannot deny that I have thoroughly enjoyed your daughter’s presence. She is lovely, excellent companion,” stated Elrohir politely, “We spend time together.”

“Sometimes,” added Wanda quickly, nodding at Ro to follow suit.

“Aye… sometimes,” corrected Ro in agreement with Wanda whilst giving her a stealthy raise of his brow.

“That’s a lot of someti— _oof_ ,” mumbled Dan with a jolt as he earned a kick on the shin under the table by Elrohir.

The twins weren’t exactly stealthy at their silly banter, and the result of this was confirming Wanda and Elrohir’s relationship more to her family. Belethiel leaned in to Wanda’s ear and ever so quietly whispered, ‘ _you will tell me all about it and not spare any details’_ which got Wanda to sigh though she didn’t exactly deny her own smile from showing.

An elf wearing a full armor came into the room and leaned in to whisper something to Glorfindel, the blond elf next to Elladan. With a nod from the warrior, the soldier left, but not before bowing his head in respect to the princes.

“The prince and princess of the Woodland are here early,” informed Glorfindel to the twins with a brilliant smile on his face.

“That’s awful,” replied Elladan and Elrohir at the same time, both sharing a playful glint in their identical grey eyes—and if Wanda wasn’t wrong—relief.

Elladan patted his lips with a napkin as he stood up, bowing his head a bit as he talked to Etheriel and Belethiel. “Many apologies, ladies. I’m afraid I and my brother have to leave sooner. There are guests that we need to welcome soon. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh! Of course we don’t mind! Don’t worry about us. I’m sure you have many things to tend to,” answered Etheriel.

“We’ll just eat some more and… chat,” Belethiel added, glancing mischievously a bit at Wanda who practically squirm in her seat upon the incoming interrogation from her nosy sister and mama.

Etheriel had to hid her smile, knowing how shy her daughter was. And Elrohir, though thoroughly enjoying the pink that dusted his lover’s cheek, seemed to understand that Wanda wasn’t quite ready yet to be left alone to answer to her family’s curiosity about her and him. He was left behind as Elladan and Glorfindel began to walk away whilst murmuring something about the kingdom of ‘Smirkwood’ and whether they came here with an elk with horns as big as Thranduil’s head.

Whatever Elladan and Glorfindel was joking about, Wanda was sure it was something quite disrespectful, but not in a negative way. If anything, whoever came seemed to be dear to their hearts—

“…Wanda?”

“Hm?” Wanda shifted her gaze to the clear, joyful grey eyes that never fail to make her heart skip a beat.

“I said, would you like to accompany me?”

“Me?”

Elrohir raised a brow, as if asking her silently if she would rather be left alone to deal with her mama and sister’s questions.

“Yes!” She jumped at the realization of what Elrohir was trying to do, which was steal her away from her family and buy her some time off. Wanda looked back at her family and smiled sheepishly, “I’ll be right back.”

“I see what you did there,” Belethiel smirked rather disturbingly while stirring her cup of tea. “See you later, sister,” she said with a wink.

_Oh boy._

Wanda took the youngest twin’s hand and wrapped her fingers with his warm ones, feeling her heart fluttered at the way his hand covered her smaller one. They left, walking fast to catch up with Elladan and Elrohir, almost running whilst smiling and sharing a silent chuckle to each other.

Etheriel put a hand on her chest, feeling warmth seeped into her heart as she saw Wanda and Elrohir together.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy,” murmured Belethiel to her _nana_ dreamily, voicing her thoughts. Etheriel wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and smiled rather happily, “It’s about time. She had been lonely.”

“Yes,” agreed Belethiel as she fondly caress her pregnant stomach, “Maybe this time she can truly move on and be happy, regardless…”

Belethiel and her _nana,_ Etheriel shared a silent look at each other. The secret, one that they voluntarily agreed to never break with their own lives out of love; they secretly prayed to Eru that it won’t jeopardize what happiness Wanda could have with the prince.

***

The warrior elf dismounted his white stallion with grace and ease that were bestowed only among the most gracious elves. His almost platinum blond hair was shimmering under the sun, rimming his sculpted handsome face as he smiled fondly at the pretty human female he was offering his hand to. There was reverence in his eyes as she took his hand.

The female had long, darkest shade of shining obsidian hair that framed the soft curve of her face. She beamed at him, brown eyes gazing lovingly to the elf as she got down from her own mare. The female took her time to pet her horse, whispering something to the mare as if the mare could understand her. That was before Elladan and Elrohir came forward to greet them both.

To Wanda’s surprise, the female human grabbed the twins rather ruggedly for someone so small and hugged them both at the same time, forcing the two tall warriors to bend down to her height. Wanda watched as four of them exchanged fond greets and some internal jokes, again with the ‘Smirkwood’ and ‘Thranduil’s elk’, earning a playful roll of eyes from the prince.

Right then Wanda realized who these two were: Prince Legolas and Princess Leane of Mirkwood.

There was something strange about the human female. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was a human that married an elf. It was something else.

Wanda watched in half a trance at Princess Leane’s finger as she wrapped her arms around the twins in a bear hug. The silver ring that she wore didn’t look like anything special, yet it stood out to her. It spoke to her. It—

“…and who might this be?”

The masculine yet almost musical voice that belonged to Prince Legolas brought Wanda back from her trance. Elrohir walked back to her and took her hand, leading her gently to meet both Prince and Princess.

“This,” Elladan hung his arm around Wanda’s shoulder, “…is our dear friend, Wanda,” again, Elrohir pushed Elladan’s arm away from Wanda out of annoyance, but it seemed that Elladan, once again, didn’t care, “…who might as well be my baby sister in the future which explains why Ro is a little possessive around her.”

This statement got Wanda to blush. She smiled sheepishly, not being sure of how to respond.

“Nay. I am not possessive, Dan just needs to learn to keep his hands to himself,” protested Ro which started a chuckle among the friends.

“Obviously you are a tough woman for being able to withstand not one, but two of them all at once,” said Prince Legolas warmly, bowing his head a bit in greeting, “Lady Wanda. _Le suilon_ (I greet you).”

The avenger took the prince’s hand and shook it. “ _Le suilon_ ,” she replied with a rather flawless, trained accent.

Little did she know that Legolas noticed the strange way she shook his hand. The elf with the keen eye observed Wanda and the way she greeted his wife carefully.

“Where do hail from, Lady Wanda?”

“I… live just near the border of Rivendell. But I’m staying here for the time being, Princess,” she stuttered, shocked to hearing the princess accent, and in result almost forgot to cover up her own Sokovian accent. Almost.

American. It had been a long time since she heard that accent. For a moment she thought this female might be from her world. But once she got over her shock, she began to ponder the possibility that there might be some race in Middle Earth that speak with accent similar to the Americans.

Leane saw something unusual about Wanda; something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She lowered her mental barrier and took in everything around her, focusing her attention towards the brunette.

Anxiety. Apprehension. But behind all that insecurities laid something else on the background—fear, not one that comes on a whim, but one that was stable; constant; always there.

Wanda’s emotion awoke the worst part of herself that she buried deep inside: The horror of war; the fear and pain of losing her own life; the bodies she dropped and the innocent she had to bury to survive.

Leane nearly gag at the returning ghost from her memory.

Her husband’s protective arm around her waist was the only thing that tethered her to reality and pulled her back. She quickly put up the mental barrier that she let open before, immediately regretting her curiosity just seconds ago.

Wanda watched as the princess paled, though her expression was hard to read. She wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Feeling alright there, Leane?” asked Elladan, taking her right hand and keeping it there for a moment. “Your pulse is running a little faster than normal.”

It was easy to forget that Elladan was the student of Lord Elrond, that he was a healer himself. She watched in fascination how Elladan’s grey eyes examined Princess Leane for any sign of symptoms while she gazed at her husband’s eyes. Whatever they had, they seemed to understand each other very well. Prince Legolas tightened his arm around her and smiled to the twins and Wanda, but the worry in his icy blue eyes was unmistakable.

“We had a long journey. We’ll appreciate it if we can take the rest of the day off,” said the prince of Mirkwood.

Erestor, the Chief Advisor to Lord Elrond was already there all this time and spoke for the first time.

“We have a chambers provided for you and your party. Please follow me.”

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a look before Dan nodded and left to follow the prince and princess.

“She doesn’t look okay,” pointed Wanda to Ro who took her hand in his as they began to walk to another direction together. “I think she’s sick. Is that why Elladan was following her?”

“Elladan just wants to make sure that they get into their chamber and have everything they need.”

“Don’t you suppose she might need to see a healer?”

Elrohir looked down at her in a way that made her stomach fluttered. “You’re worried about her.”

“I just met her,” said Wanda casually.

“You’re beautiful. And kind,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, making Wanda felt like she was blushing like a teenager.

Elrohir took his time to admire her pretty face, the hazel eyes that stared up at him like a child. He brushed a strand of her brunette hair behind her ear while explaining further. “They prefer to deal with some things alone.”

“Alright,” she nodded, not asking further.

Wanda smiled sheepishly as she took his offered arm and linked theirs together. She could feel his toned, muscular arm around her smaller one. His warmth as they strolled aimlessly…

“It occurs to me,” Elrohir was the one to break the comfortable silence between them, “…that I haven’t given you a tour to my number one spot in Rivendell,” he hinted with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Wanda playfully narrowed her eyes. “I feel like you’re planning something bad.”

“I’m always bad. There’s no denying that,” he said cockily, “That’s probably one of the charm that gets you and many other females to like me.”

That got Wanda to chuckle. “You’re full of shit, Ro.”

“I know,” he replied sassily, gazing at her softly, “You love it.”

Another touch, another kiss pulled him closer and closer to mortality; but Elrohir couldn’t care less. As long as he could feel her fingers grazing his hair and her honey lips on his—he’ll trade his immortality for a fraction of lifetime in her arms.

After the brief eternity of relishing in each other’s kisses and they were breathless, Elrohir pulled away slightly and opted to graze his lips on the soft skin of her cheek.

“Promise me something,” murmured Elrohir to her skin in a way that sent pleasurable chill down her spine, “…that you will never leave me.”

Wanda lazily opened her hazel eyes upon the request. She was lost in his steel grey, loving eyes. For a while, she reveled on how serious Elrohir was right now, something that she seldom saw on the famous prankster of Rivendell.

“I…”

He leaned closer, his eyes drifting to her inviting lips. She smiled, leaning up to him, their lips was a hair away from grazing each other, “…no promises.”

Then she looked away just as he was about to kiss her. Wanda grinned and walked backwards, teasing him.

Elrohir let out a huff, yet a dangerous smirk grew on his beautiful face.

“Well played, mortal,” he grumbled playfully, earning a giggle from Wanda. “Are you sure you want to play this game with me?”

Wanda watched as Ro had that hawk look in his eyes. There was a look of mischief that otherwise would scream trouble to anyone who sees. But to Wanda, the look he was giving her was making her feel alive.

Feeling brave, Wanda put her index finger in front of her face and bent it, beckoning him to her. “Only if you can catch me.”

Cute. Alluring. Those are two words that he could use to describe her right now, and his heart swelled with love as he watched the hidden side of her to show. She was almost always so serious; but like this, seeing her so free, smiling… He’ll do anything just to keep her happy.

Elrohir folded his arms in front of his broad chest, not seemingly buying her bluff. “And what do I get if I indeed manage to catch you?”

“Well…” something in Wanda’s doe, hazel eyes changed, “…What do you want?” she asked rather timidly, turning her gaze away sheepishly from his for a moment.

The brave, full of innuendo question caught the warrior prince off guard. For a moment he couldn’t find his voice. And her smile— _oh Eru_ , what does that smile mean? How was he supposed to answer that question? ‘I want you’?

“Oh my goodness, what is that!?”

The sudden change in Wanda’s voice and expression broke the spell that she placed on him. In an instant his soldier instinct kicked in. He turned around, following her eyes behind him and searched for any kind of threat with his hand readily on the hilt of his sword.

“What? What is it?” he asked in alarm. The sound of footsteps running made him turn, and before he knew it Wanda had already stolen a head start from him.

“You smart fish,” he shook his head in disbelief.

He’d chase her, and he’d make sure to capture her and make her his. Even if it meant chasing her to the end of the world.

***

[ **Author’s Note** : Fluff chapter. I thought it would be fun to bring my own OC from my other book to this story. In case you’re wondering where Leane is from, you can read her story in “ ** _Infinity Ring: Legolas Love Story_** ”. Do let me know what you think of the chapter or if you want to see Leane more. Have a good day and thank you for reading ❤️ I love y’all!]


	6. Friends From High Places

Wanda was probably the constant thing that filled his mind lately, so it was no surprise that Elrohir found his dreams filled with her.

The soft curve of her body was accentuated by the simple, silky white dress she was wearing. Elrohir was enamored just by how delicate her waist is, how her brunette hair were flowing as the chilly night air of Rivendell blew through them. Her form was small and seemingly fragile as the chilly night wind blew past her. Her fingers were curled by her sides, as if she was dancing. She heard him coming.

Turn around, turn around and let me see your face, so I know you’re unharmed, thought Elrohir.

And she did.

The first thing he noticed was the soft silhouette of her nose and lips. Then her eyes; they were red, angry as a ruby. She faced him, and he felt paralyzed by what he saw.

This was not the Wanda that he knew and loved. Anger and thirst—something that he couldn’t figure out filled her expression. She lifted her hands, a dance, scarlet swirled around her beautiful fingers, as angry as her eyes were.

The last thing he saw was red.

Elrohir found himself staring at the ceiling, not quite understanding the vision that he had.

“Feast of Starlight tonight. Better get dressed. We all have to be by _Adar’s_ study for the last briefing about the security measures around the event,” said Elladan, throwing him his dark blue shirt.

“Did you see that?”

“I’m your twin brother. Of course I did,” replied Dan. Ro was searching his eyes, trying to find mischief in it and didn’t find it. “It’s probably just a passing dream. I think you’re too tense about her safety. We all are,” reassured Elladan. “The whole breach by the border and your feelings for her are messing with you, brother.”

Elrohir nodded quietly, not very convinced.

“She is safe. This time we’ll make sure our people get to celebrate the feast without any disturbance. Maybe you could even have a dance or two with her,” encouraged Elladan with a smile, “Relax. It’s so unlike you. Usually I’m the one needing encouragement, not the other way around.”

Elrohir let out a crack of smile on his face. “Right. I think too much,” he said as he put on his shirt and began to get dressed.

All security measures had been set up, the security at the borders were doubled up in preparation of the Feast of Starlight. Their _Adar_ was scanning the border over and over again for any breach, finding nothing. The scouts had been sent regularly to monitor the border.

Everything was in place, yet something felt off.

‘ _Do not fret, brother. If there’s really something off, we’ll know.’_

‘ _Do not tell me that you don’t feel it too_.’

No response from Dan. Elrohir glanced at the perfect mirror of himself and saw the soldier façade on his face. Unreadable. But they both knew that he too, felt something peculiar that they couldn’t shake off.

‘ _Dan_ …’

“Say… something goes wrong,” Elladan finally said with a sigh, giving in to Ro’s silent plea, sending an apprehensive look at his brother before turning his gaze to the Lord of Imladris. “What back up plan do we have on where to evacuate the guests?”

“This have been my lingering question as well,” added Legolas, sending the twins an equal concerned look.

Seemed that Legolas also felt uneasy about the feast. That much, the three old friends could read from each other this morning despite how well the three masked their expression to the others. Erestor was the first to answer them.

“I can assure you, Prince Legolas, the border is safe. We’ve tightened our security since the breach last week and nothing goes in and out without us knowing.”

“Three villages just north from here were ravaged and burned to ashes in the past two weeks,” pointed out Legolas. “It is getting closer here. How sure are you that the enemy force doesn’t know about the lamp?”

“Maybe we should reconsider postponing the Feast of Starlight?” asked Elrohir, voicing their silent question.

“Postponing, cancelling the feast would send a message that something was amiss in Imladris,” replied Lord Elrond, looking somewhat torn. “At best, it would raise questions that we can’t answer. We are facing a hard choice. And as far as I can tell, we have to make sure that everything goes as normal to keep the lamp a secret.”

“At the expense of our people?” Elladan blurted, and suddenly the study of Lord Elrond turned colder at the bold rethorical question.

The Lord of Imladris stood up from his chair, a deep wrinkle nestled between his brows as his thousand year eyes grew cold.

“We are the last stand for Middle Earth. If the lamp falls into the wrong hands, it won’t be just our people that is at stake, it is the whole world!” countered Lord Elrond to his son, his voice raised to a level that would make anyone reconsider whatever they were thinking.

Silence befell the chamber at the hard truth that slipped past the wise elf lord’s lips. Elladan clenched his jaw, but nonetheless bowed his head at his _Adar_ reprimands.

“All we can do is proceed as if nothing was amiss. Pray to Eru that the existence of the lamp is still known as a legend, a myth, the truth that only six of us here know,” stated Glorfindel.

“So, back to the back up plan,” Elrohir cut the tense silence, “If, and I say if an attack somehow indeed happen, the guests of the feast would be like a sitting duck.”

“Then the best way to keep them safe was to keep them indoors. The hall is designed like a fortress. High walls should give us leverage to defend the civilians despite the poor setting of the place,” answered Erestor.

“And who designed the hall again?” commented Elrohir sarcastically.

Elladan shook his head, “It is for the Feast of Starlight, Ro. Of course it has to be in an open space, else how do you see the stars?” said the older twin with a pointed look.

Legolas shook his head. “Many of them _ellith_ (female elves) and _elflings_ (child elves), having no real idea how an attack work. Say some run outside, what will happen?”

“They’ll be unprotected,” answered Glorfindel, “Their best chance is to stay inside.”

“So we post guards on every entrance.”

“Archers and watchmen on the roof.”

“Already done, my lord.”

“Brief them again,” insisted Elrohir, looking somewhat concerned, “Make sure we put an emphasis on how important their roles are.”

“They understand that, _ion nin_ (my son),” replied Lord Elrond, beating Erestor to it. A look of sympathy and fatigue was on his ever youthful face.

Elrohir sighed, his thoughts filled with his people’s safety, and most of all: Wanda.

“You should have left the lamp in the abyss,” murmured Elrohir to Glorfindel, a look of dismay on his expression.

A hand on his shoulder made him turn to look at the exact grey eyes that he too had. Elladan looked at Elrohir in sympathy. “Do not take this out on Glorfindel, brother. He doesn’t have a choice. You and I would have done the same.”

Elrohir took a deep breath, and sent the warrior with the lush golden hair a look of apology, one that was graciously returned with a nod of understanding from Glorfindel.

“Good. Now, what has spoken in this chamber shall never go out. Ever,” reminded Lord Elrond to the other five elves present, his eyes drifting to Legolas, “…even to your wife.”

The prince of Mirkwood folded his arms in front of his chest, icy blue eyes focused yet troubled at the same time. “I still do not like covering this up from Leane. But for the sake of greater good, I will continue to do so. You have my word.”

“We survived the War of the Ring,” said Erestor, “We can survive this too.”

“Hopefully without war being involved,” said Elladan, though deep down, they all knew that war would be inevitable.

***

“Time to go.”

Elrohir gently took Wanda’s hand and pressed his warm lips on the back of her hand while keeping his cool grey eyes on her hazel ones.

“See you tonight, _guren vell_ (sweet heart),” bid Elrohir goodbye.

Wanda couldn’t help the smile that was etched on her face. Reluctantly the couple released their intertwined fingers; each brush of their skin sent their heart fluttering, and though the separation was still fresh, even knowing they’d be reunited again in a few hours, Wanda felt like she missed him already. Terribly.

The prince walked backwards, being pulled by his twin brother whilst keeping his eyes on her as long as he could, a playful smile on his face. “Catch you later,” he said winking, putting a hand on his heart before turning away with a grin on his handsome face.

Wanda practically glowing as she returned to her chamber. She quickly searched for the one dress that she already prepared for this night. She sewed it herself, and through years helping her mama making dresses, she dared say that this dress was her best creation yet. Her mind traveled to Elrohir; would he like her in the baby blue dress? Oh she hoped he would. The material that made her dress might not be the best—it was as far as she could afford— yet her handiwork and sewing pattern were flawless.

She laid out the dress on her bed. The baby blue dress with long, flowing sleeves was perfect.

Scratch that. _Almost_ perfect. She found a loose thread along the sewn pattern at the rim of the right sleeve. Out of instinct she pulled it, and messed up the pattern.

Wanda cursed under her breath, but upon further inspection she realized that it only needed a minor alteration to it. She still could make it. Hastily the scarlet witch searched around the room for needle and thread with color similar to her dress. She found herself sitting in front of the flower courtyard of Rivendell, where the light was abundant to assist her in her small work.

“Hello.”

She looked up from her work and was met with a beautiful _elleth_ with one of the most beautiful golden hair she ever saw. Her appearance was something that Wanda could only describe as an angel. A kind smile graced her beautiful face, alabaster skin glowing and flawless. She was dressed in the most exquisite, unusual material that got her to conclude that this was one of the guests of Lord Elrond, probably from Lothlorien.

“Hello,” answered Wanda, smiling sheepishly at her.

“What do you got there? I am sorry if I seem to intrude, but I saw you from afar and couldn’t help but wonder,” chirped the _elleth_ with a voice that sounded like a lullaby.

“Oh this?” Wanda lifted her dress up slightly, “It’s my dress.”

“What happened to it?”

“I accidentally pulled a thread. It just needs some fixing.”

“I see. Do you mind if I join you?” asked the _elleth_. “I’m Gwirithon of Lothlorien,” she introduced herself with a small, graceful curtsy that Wanda thought would make any ballerina cry.

Wanda beamed up at the friendly _elleth_. She bowed her head in return. “Wanda. I’m from here.”

“Well, Wanda-I’m-from-here,” she chirped, attempting a small joke, “You seem pretty good at sewing,” she observed as Wanda’s fingers nimbly sewed in the pattern along the sleeve of her dress.

“Thank you. My mama taught me. She’s a skilled seamstress.”

“Seamstress?” repeated Gwirithon, deeo in thought, “Which one? I happen to order my dress from a local seamstress too.”

“You might know Etheriel?”

“Etheriel. Yes,” nodded Gwirithon in recognition. “The one that lives near at the outskirt of the city. I had my dress made by her. It’s the most exquisite black obsidian color. Very gorgeous. Truly remarkable creation,” praised Gwirithon.

Wanda’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Black obsidian? I think I helped make that dress. It’s a very unique dress. The color choice is excellent. It will compliment your complexion and hair color well,” observed Wanda with a genuine smile. “I cannot wait to see you on it.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” she beamed, placing a hand on her chest. The beautiful _elleth_ took a seat next to her and watched Wanda in silence as she worked on the pattern of her bunched dress she wished to perfect.

“You’ve seen my dress. I think it’s only fair if you let me see yours,” murmured Gwirithon, breaking the silence between them.

Without much thinking, Wanda offered her her dress, carefully holding the needle so the delicate _elleth_ won’t hurt her finger whilst studying her dress. “Mind you, it’s not as grand compared to your dress,” she said sheepishly. “Watch the needle.”

Gwirithon laid out the dress on her lap. She let her fingers trailed the material gently—the fabric slightly rough, stiff—though the mortal woman’s stitches were neat, it still didn’t mask the fact that it was cheap.

Now that she paused her work, Wanda had the time to finally study the _elleth_ next to her. Her expression neutral, though whether out of her insecurities or not, she saw something else in her azure eyes—contempt.

“So who are you going with to the feast tonight?”

Her insecurities made Wanda squirmed in her seat, unable to answer.

“Is it Elladan?”

“No—”

A sound of torn fabric reached her ears, and in an instant Wanda’s heart plummeted to her stomach.

“What have you done??” she squeaked, quickly snatching the dress from the hands of the _elleth_. Swallowing thickly, Wanda assessed the damage made by the Gwirithon to her dress. The lining on the sleeve has been torn all the way to its shoulder, and Wanda had to bit her cheek to keep emotion from spilling.

“Gwirithon…”

“I am so sorry!” pleaded Gwirithon. “I-I didn’t mean to! You’re a seamstress, you can fix it, right?” she asked, azure eyes wide as she looked at Wanda.

“…There’s no time,” said Wanda quietly. “A damage this big…” What was she going to wear tonight? This was a disaster.

Silence passed between them. Gwirithon shrugged. “Well, maybe it’s the sign from the Valar. Maybe you should not come to the feast tonight.”

Wanda looked up to see her face, thinking she misheard all of this cruel statement.

“You know, Elladan plays with many girls’ heart. But one thing for sure, he won’t be serious with someone… _lesser_ than him, let alone a mortal girl. He has a reputation to keep.”

Wanda was speechless. Anger began to spark in her chest, and her voice had become an octave lower than normal.

“You…” her voice trembled, “…did this on purpose,” she stated.

“I’m doing you a favor—”

“All because of Elladan??” she hissed, not believing what she implied herself. “You think I’m with him? I’m not!”

“Oh, good. So it’s Elrohir then? I’m still having trouble differentiating those two—my point is, they’re out of your league.”

Wanda felt her fingers twitch—just a little effort needed, if she wanted, she could easily snapped the deceitful _elleth’s_ neck.

However, common sense prevail.

“You little—”

“Hold your tongue!” seethed Gwirithon, “Insult me, and I will make sure everyone in Rivendell knows it and that your poor fake mother would have no business left.”

Wanda did hold her tongue. Gwirithon’s words cut like a knife in her gut. Despite how much Wanda wanted to make Gwirithon pay for what she did, she couldn’t. Not when her sweet mother was involved.

“Good,” mumbled Gwirithon, flipping her silky golden hair back. “Now apologize.”

“You’re the one who owe me an apology,” Wanda said in disbelief.

“I already said sorry, didn’t I? Now you should apologize for raising your voice to me.”

Wanda’s ego was big. She was an avenger, but how far she had fallen from that! For the sake of her mama, Wanda kept her head down and swallowed her pride.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, the word felt like ash in her mouth.

“I forgive you. Well then,” Gwirithon stood up and gently smoothed her dress, “I guess I’ll see you around, seamstress girl.”

With that the _elleth_ floated away, leaving Wanda alone in that courtyard. Gwirithon had played her. She sat on the stone bench, shoulders sagged, speechless, wanting to scream but couldn’t. Wanting to cry but she was too tough for that. So she numbly gave up, severing the thread on her dress from the needle knowing that unless a fairy god mother exist, she wouldn’t make it to the feast.

***

“What are you wearing tonight?”

“Nothing.”

The prince of Mirkwood sent his wife an equal look of disbelief and amusement. “I meant at the feast,” he corrected himself, unable to hide his boyish smirk from showing.

Leane narrowed her eyes at him. “You never care about what I wear before,” she contemplated. “In fact, I think you’d still be okay even if I ever come out of the room wearing rags.”

Legolas felt his wife’s leg teasingly caressed his under the table, sending a familiar chill down his spine. At the same time there was a slightly darkened look in his wife’s eyes when she looked at him. “Do you have something planned for me in mind?” she purred. “I’m always open for suggestions.”

“Leane,” he warned, half whining, making his wife giggle adorably as he pulled his legs to himself, trying to get away from her touch.

‘ _We’re in public. Behave.’_

_‘Maybe I don’t want to behave.’_

Just as she sent that thought through their bond, he felt her foot working her way up along his thigh, getting braver. Immediately Legolas captured her ankle under the table, holding it in place before she could tease him any further.

‘ _Stop it or you’re sleeping alone tonight_ ,’ threatened Legolas half heartedly through their bond.

Leane put down her fork and rested her chin on her hand, giving him her best puppy eyes at him.

‘ _Don’t give me that look, melleth nin (my love). Save the teasing for tonight, will you?’_ he said inwardly while giving her ankle a brief but loving caress—a promise—before letting it down gently.

‘ _Who’s going to be teasing who?_ ’

‘ _We’ll see_.’

The handsome smirk that her husband gave her was enough to made her knees felt weak and excite her at the same time, so she ‘behaved’ before he could change his mind. She grinned.

“Fine. Why do you ask about what I’m wearing anyway?”

“Just a thought,” he answered with a shrug as he took a small bite of his lunch. Legolas let her see what he had seen earlier, a memory involving Lady Wanda and Lady Gwirithon of Lothlorien.

In an instant, Leane crunched her nose in disgust at the memory sent by her husband through their bond. She leaned down closer to him, a look of drama etched across her face.

“Such a bitch.”

“Language.”

“Poor girl,” said Leane, her expression filled with sympathy.

“Aye.”

“Why didn’t you say anything when you saw that?” protested Leane.

“Because it is not my place to say anything. Besides, I might just make things worse for her.”

“I would have smacked Gwirithon on the face if I were you.”

Legolas masked his almost laughter with a cough at Leane’s reaction. “It is not a very gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Your mother taught you well,” commented Leane, “I am, however, not a gentleman, and I still would punch her if I saw that. She’s like someone that came out of Mean Girls.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow in question.

“It’s a drama, about a bunch of mean girls,” she explained.

“I do not see why they would make a drama out of that. It sounds horrible.”

Leane shrugged. “Americans do have odd taste.”

“I can see that,” teased Legolas, referencing at her. Leane had the decency to feign an offended look.

“So what? You love it,” she defended herself.

“I do love you,” admitted Legolas, his icy blue eyes softened when he said those words to his wife.

No matter how much he had said it, it still never fail to make her heart melted.

“Smooth elf,” she murmured through her blush, her eyes telling him that she loved him too in a way that warmed Legolas’ heart.

He took her hand on the table and brushed her skin with his thumb. For a while the married couple smiled, quietly sharing loving glances to each other. What they had was a blessing from the Valar, and everyday felt not enough to thank Eru for that.

“Anyway, I think it’s too late for her to make a new dress,” pointed out Leane. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind letting go of one of your dresses.”

“Of course not. Your _Adar_ made sure I have dresses for every hour of the day. I think Thranduil wouldn’t notice if I give away one of them, would he?”

***

A knock sounded on her door. Wanda sighed as she got up from her bed and opened the door. An elf wearing a guard armor stood in front of her, holding a beautiful emerald box.

“This came for you, my lady.”

Wanda took the box, feeling the rich material of the gift box, “Who’s it from?”

“A friend. That’s all I am allowed to say.”

With a bow of the head, the soldier bid her goodbye and left quietly. When she undid the pretty bow on the box and unearthed what was inside, her heart skipped a beat.

***

[ **Author’s Note:** Since I received so many rave about Leane and Legolas’ involvement in the story, I couldn’t help but bring more of them in the chapter. Think of this chapter as a bonus. Hoped you enjoyed it and loved it. The real heartstopper should be in the next chapter or two ❤️Love y’all!]


	7. The Feast of Starlight

The Feast of Starlight took place on a hill, the highest point of the city. The place itself was shaped like a dome, but without the roof that would otherwise hinder your eyes from gazing into the million twinkling stars above. Now Wanda could really understand why this was called the Hall of Starlight.

The high wall was decorated with what seemed like fluorescent flowers that mimicked the sky above. The golden insignia of Rivendell could be found here and there decorating the wall, some trailing up high till as far as the eyes could see. The whole building was basically an elvish version of colosseum without the roughness and the bloody history of the Roman empire.

Candles that were placed strategically around the place gave off soft hue of amber that lit up the hall without overpowering the beauty of the starlight. The songs of the elves were chanted in old Quenya. Its soft, melancholic tune echoed around the building, making Wanda shiver pleasantly as the melody reached her ears. Though she didn’t know what the beautiful tune meant, she knew they were singing hymns to the stars itself.

“I thought one of the stars has fallen down right in front of my eyes.”

The musical male voice drew a smile from Wanda’s lips. “Smooth,” was her only reply as she turned around to face him. Ro’s cool grey eyes searched her, heavy with reverence. She couldn’t help but let her eyes wander. Elrohir was wearing a silver tunic with rich dark blue rimming its edges; along with it, a dark leggings that disappeared behind his shiny elven boots. A simple yet beautiful silver circlet sat on top of his head, crowning his inky black hair. Equipped with sword strapped on his side and a charming smile on his lips, he was a real life prince that came only from her wildest fantasy.

“You look… marvelous,” he breathed, earning a blush from Wanda.

“Thank you. You look dashing as well,” she managed to reply calmly.

Dashing didn’t do him any justice—he was beautiful.

“I uh…” Elrohir was lost for words as he drank in her appearance before him, a vision in white, “I have something for you to complete the look.”

He took his hands from behind his back, producing a beautiful arrangement of flower crown. With a slightly crooked smile of his, he showed it to her, reading her expression. “May I?”

Her nod was his cue as he gently placed the flower crown on top of her head. Now that she paid more attention, many _elleths_ that present were also wearing flower crowns. Some, but not all.

“How do I look?” Wanda asked as she adjusted and felt the flowers on her head with the tips of her fingers.

“Breathtaking. I’m honored,” he answered.

“So what’s the occasion?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s my first time being in here. It seems like some people are also wearing flower crowns.”

A look of understanding passed the prince’s expression. “Sometimes I do forget that you are not very familiar with the way of the elves,” he murmured. He offered her his arm, smiling as she graciously took it and linked hers with his. “It is a symbol, a sign when someone thinks of you highly. To show that they cherish you,” he explained, “Usually an _ellon_ to an _elleth_ they fancy.”

The light was dim, but Wanda could almost see Ro blushing a bit. “So you fancy me?” Wanda elbowed him lightly, teasing him.

Ro had the decency to look as if he was contemplating his answer. “I have to think about that,” answered Elrohir with a boyish grin.

“I’m not an elf. Does this little token of fanciness still stand?”

Elrohir’s eyes softened at the innocent, teasing question, but in a way that felt a little more to the melancholic side. “Yes it does. A million yes,” he reassured her. “I’ll make more for you if you wish it.”

Wanda but her lip in an attempt to stop from smiling too much. “You’re so tense tonight,” she pointed out. Her fingers went up to trail and felt Ro’s silky, obsidian hair, “You haven’t said anything silly to me for the past…. Thirty seconds. Are you feeling alright?”

Elrohir narrowed his eyes at the petite brunette in his arm. “Now you’re the one teasing me. I’m trying to make a good impression here,” he protested playfully.

“It’s kind of too late,” giggled Wanda.

Elrohir cracked a naughty grin at her.

Another music started to play, this time in a new tune that was happier. Elrohir let go of Wanda’s hold and cleared his throat before gracefully offered his hand to her.

“May I have this dance with you?” he asked with a wide smile and a pair of expectant grey eyes.

Wanda looked at his hand and felt her chest filled with warmth at the way that night unfold. In that moment, she no longer remember the incident with Gwirithon earlier. It was all forgotten, and Elrohir was all that occupied the space in her mind and heart.

“This dance,” she took his hand, reveling on the feeling of his swordsman’s hand, “…and the next, and the next…as long as you don’t mind me stepping on your foot.”

A pleased smirk etched on Ro’s handsome face. “Now you owe me at least three dances so you better keep up, _guren vell._ ”

To his surprise, the pretty woman in his arms, though was pretty new to the dance of the elves, was actually a fast learner and a graceful dancer. Her movement was fluid and it was easy for them to fall into the same rhythm. The feeling of her fingers intertwined with his sent his heart soaring in a way that he thought as if he was being high with Dorwinion wine.

Their surroundings were reduced to a blur of colors as they locked eyes, spinning round and round in a sweet yet merry tune of the song. Elrohir’s elf eyes found two pairs of eyes that belonged to Belethiel and Rubin as he spun. He sent them a wink, making the couple smiled to each other somewhere in the background as the married couple enjoyed their own dance.

“Rubin wouldn’t shut up knowing that I’m trying to court you,” Ro whispered lowly to her ears, sending pleasant shiver down her neck just as he twirled her in his arms, “I think he passive aggressively threatened me one time, in case I plan on breaking your heart.”

“Did he?” wondered Wanda, hazel eyes lit up with joy and the merriment of not only the feast, but also being in her lover’s arms. Ro hummed his confirmation, sending her a boyish smirk as he gazed at her.

Belethiel’s husband was never been an elf with many words. Wanda got along fine with him—he was kind, honorable and responsible. But Wanda never thought that Rubin cared about her _that_ much. Something in her heart melted at the realization, and she made a mental note to show her gratitude to him some time.

“Of course I responded gracefully, though I must admit I did tremble inside,” added Ro.

Wanda’s giggle elicited a wider smile on the warrior face, and there was it again, the look of reverence that made Wanda felt like a mush inside—she felt undeserving of his affection.

_‘The border is breached.’_

That internal voice immediately made Elrohir looked around. His eyes met Elladan’s grey ones briefly as he watched his older brother kissed the hand of his dance partner in a sudden farewell.

‘ _They need us there, brother. Adar is already on the way. We need to protect the people.’_

Elrohir cursed inwardly as he turned his eyes back softly at Wanda; his expression remained calm despite the raging anxiety and stress in his mind.

Wanda lifted a hand and caressed his jaw gently with her thumb, “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh Wanda. You know me so well,” he admitted, “I have to go. There is something that needs to be taken care of.”

Ro hated himself to see the disappointment in Wanda’s hazel eyes, but at the same time, knowing that the female seemed to loathe farewell with him, warmed his heart. “Is it urgent?” asked the avenger despite knowing the answer.

“Aye. _Goheno nin, melleth_ (I’m sorry, love). I will make it up to you,” he said as he tilted his head to kiss her wrist on the side of his face. His thumb gently stroked her hand. “Promise me something.”

Wanda nodded rather apprehensively. Elrohir leaned down to her, his lips close to her ear.

“Whatever happens…” he whispered ever so softly, so close that Wanda could feel his breath trickling her neck pleasantly, “…Stay inside. Do not go outside.”

The prince lightly pecked the spot under her ear, his kiss left a heat trail that taunted her with an odd mixture of want and also apprehension of what he was implying. With one last look, Ro drank in her appearance before reluctantly letting her go and turning around to join his brother.

***

Elves were dancing round the giant open hall. The stars shone brightly above their heads, their lights glimmering diamonds, adding wonders to the festivity. The music was joyful yet at the same time calming, serene, that it was hard for Wanda to describe them. She watched as elves swung gracefully to the tune, merriment was evident in all their faces as they held their loved ones in their arms.

That was not the case with the guards. Them being elves, she knew that they were naturally harder to read, but Wanda noticed just how tenser they grew with time despite how their expression not giving away anything. Most of them stood very still, eyes watchful, while some did patrol around the giant coliseum, hand rested on the hilt of their sword. Wanda noticed how one dark haired guard held his sword tightly until his knuckles go white— something was clearly amiss.

A hand on her shoulder made her turn.

“That…” Belethiel started, eyeing her form appreciatively, “…is an amazing dress,” she whistled, feeling the material of Wanda’s flowing white and studied it. Her sister seemed to be deep in thought before adding, “…it looks oddly familiar,” she frowned before looking up to meet Wanda’s eyes confusedly. “I think I might have sewn this.”

The scarlet witch’s eyes lit up at that. “You did?? Do you remember who your client was?” she asked curiously.

“Most likely from Mirkwood. We have a few buyers there, but we never really get the chance to meet the actual buyer. It was always a messenger who got the order and executed the payments.”

“Mirkwood?”

“I sense there’s a story behind this dress,” hinted Belethiel, which made Wanda recounted the story of Gwirithon.

When Wanda had finished, Belethiel grabbed her shoulders rather tightly for someone so fragile looking, yet the fire in her eyes would make anyone else think twice before calling her weak.

“Next time another Gwirithon show up and give you this kind of nonsense, you give them hell. I don’t care what happens to the family business—don’t you worry about me and _naneth_ (mother). Do you understand me?” she spoke low, anger laced her tone.

Wanda felt her eyes got misty at her words. “Belethiel…” she breathed.

Belethiel wrapped Wanda in a tight hug. “You are far more worthy than thousands of fancy dresses. Don’t ever let anyone step on you for us.”

Wanda was at loss. She buried her face on Belethiel’s shoulder, putting a real effort not to turn into an emotional mush but to no avail. A silent tear slipped past her cheek as she nodded, then tighten her hug on her adoptive sister once more, inhaling the soft scent of calming lavender soap on her dress.

When the two girls pulled away, both of them were busy wiping their wet faces, then their eyes met and they shared a snorty giggle—they shouldn’t have cried on such a happy festivity!

Just as they were laughing and crying at the same time, earning weird looks from those around them, Wanda noticed how some elves had slowed down in the middle of the dance to a stop. The music was still there, but forgotten. Their attention turned towards the entrance of the hall. By the time Wanda looked back at her sister, Belethiel’s face paled, her hands now protectively surrounded her baby bump.

“Oh no,” Wanda breathed, a lump gathered in her throat at seeing Belethiel’s expression. “Not that face. What do you hear that I don’t?”

Being elves had their own perks—one having an extra hearing than normal people. Wanda took a nervous breath as she waited for an explanation.

The sound of the entrance being closed filled the room. Suddenly everything went silent, the music had stopped playing.

“They’re locking us in. Wh—”

“Wanda,” cut Belethiel, her eyes wide as she stared at her. “Whatever happens, don’t get involved.”

The avenger tilted her head in puzzlement. “What—“

Hundreds of elves rushed to the gate, demanding answer to why the gate was closed. Some demanded to be let out, but the guards were adamant not to open the gate. Sounds of protests were heard throughout the hall.

“Listen!”

Nervous murmurs of the crowd suddenly ceased as a high level soldier made his stand in front of them. His voice loud and clear for all to hear, eyes scanning the area sharply, commanding control.

“Rivendell is under attack.”

The hall suddenly began to erupt with gasps and panicked sounds. The soldier continued, but this time with more assertion in his voice.

“The hall is designed like a fortress. You will be safe here. As we speak we have guards and sentries doing their best to hold the city. Until the matter at hand is handled accordingly, no one is out of this hall.”

Belethiel covered her mouth as tears spilled from her blue eyes. Wanda immediately linked her arm with hers, huddling together in the midst of the panicked crowd.

“Mother is back at home,” Belethiel sobbed, her chest wrecked with worry, “R-Rubin left the hall just minutes ago—”

The poor girl was unable to continue as she cried, knowing that their loved ones were in grave danger.

Wanda’s senses were heightened. Her mind raced as she took in her surroundings, looking for weaknesses of the hall from which the enemy, whoever they were, might come from. The avenger tried to think of a backup plan, on how to keep Belethiel safe in case the wall is breached.

Strategize, strategize, strategize—anything productive to keep herself from breaking apart with worry for her mama, brother in law, and most of all—Elrohir.

She spotted a drainage under one of the walls at the corner which only had iron fences separating it from the outside, unlike the rest of the stoned, seemingly impenetrable wall.

“Stay here,” murmured Wanda as she made her way to the drainage, but soon her vision was blocked by an armored body. An elf with an impassive yet tense expression stopped her.

“Keep away from the wall, miss,” he instructed stiffly. He inched forward, eyes walled as he instructed one more time, not taking no for an answer. “Please move back,” he worded his words politely, though Wanda knew it was no request.

Belethiel’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back as she returned to her place with the other guests of the Feast of Starlight. Wanda placed a hand on her arm in recognition, yet her eyes fixed on the drainage—a breach risk that she wondered if the soldiers had taken into account or not.

A boom shook the ground, sending the hall into a quietness. Then another.

Another.

One particular boom sent the walls around them to tremble, small debris began to crumble at the tremor as it was being hit from the outside. At this rate she could hear small fearful sobs from some _ellith_ in the hall, whether it were for their own safety or their loved ones.

Among the apprehensive, fearful noises, Wanda heard a familiar female voice. The woman’s usual kind, easy voice was demanding; almost commanding.

“Let me out. I’m needed out there,” she insisted, staring up the taller soldier elf who guarded the gate.

“My apology, princess. All females and unarmed civilians stays inside. No exception,” replied the soldier flatly.

“I’m not asking.”

The soldier pressed his lips together in what seemed like a suppressed frustration, yet never once forgetting his manners. He bowed his head slightly. “Again, my sincerest apology, princess. But I do not answer to you. I answer to the member of the House of Elro—.”

“—My husband is out there, fighting for his life, and you expect me to stay here?” snapped the princess of Mirkwood, her face reddened in anger.

At this point the wrath of the small girl had turn some heads and successfully drained the color from the elf’s face.

“Please understand,” interrupted another guard rather softly, “We are only following orders. Will it comfort you to know that your safety is your husband’s wish?”

Whatever the second guard was trying to achieve, his statement clearly resulted far differently than he expected. Leane glared in a way that Wanda thought would make Prince Legolas himself squirm. “My husband told you to stop me?!” she barked in an equal amount of disbelief and rage; her eyes now glinted dangerously.

Who knew the princess could be so… _explosive_?

“Last chance,” growled the mortal princess, demanding her freedom dangerously.

It happened rather quickly.

Woody roots stretched out from the ground, slithering towards the first guard. He yelped as tree roots enveloped his form and pulling him down to the ground. He flailed and yelled in panic, the other guards watched warily, their hands on the hilt of their swords or bows tightened.

The scarlet witch witnessed the whole scene with a slightly slacked jaw.

The princess of Mirkwood was an enhanced. Like herself.

“I’m of no use here. Let me out before I let myself out.”

Whether it was the threat in her words, or the eerie blue glow that was on her eyes—the head of the guard, though with a tightly pressed lips, finally gave a silent nod, signaling the gatekeeper to open the gate, only wide enough for the princess to slip through.

Wanda didn’t get the chance to see past the slit from which Leane disappeared to. It was not necessary; because soon, war was going to come to them far sooner than expected.

***

[ **Author’s Note** : Like, wtf, took me months to whip up this chapter. Silly writer’s block. Let me know what you think of the chapter, vote if you enjoyed it! Love y’all, lovely readers, and: **_HAPPY HOLIDAYS!_** ]


	8. Fallen

_Rivendell has fallen._

That much, Elrond had come to terms with. Expected it even. Yet seeing what he had forseen didn’t make it hurt less.

The shelter that once ruled by peace, his home, was now burning to ruin and ashes. Some of its once majestic buildings were eaten by the wrath of flames; white walls stained with both blood of his enemies and his people.

_Oh, his people. How he had failed them all._

But he hadn’t failed Arda yet. As long as there is still fight in him, Elrond vowed to keep the secret from the enemy, whatever it takes, even carry it to his death.

“—we cannot linger anymore!”

The shouts from his young lieutenant were barely registered to him as more deafening explosion sounds shook his house. The enemy catapults—Elrond had no idea how they managed to bring the machineries towards Rivendell, unseen— had been the ones responsible for so many innocent blood to be spilled this day.

“My lord!” Reanor shook his lord’s arms just after he beheaded one of the Uruk-hai, the orc monsters that had swarmed and defiled their home. “Tell me what to do.”

Lord Elrond finally turned his focus to Reanor. His silence was somehow deafening as the elf warrior stared at him, his grip on his sword tight as he waited for his orders. The wise elf finally opened his mouth, but Reanor could smell the incoming orcs before they launched their strike at him and his lord whose life he swore to protect.

The quick witted elf then guided his lord to a slight opening in the crack of the wall just so the Uruks won’t be able to see them. At least for a while.

“You must leave me,” murmured Lord Elrond, his voice shaky yet there was a clarity in his order, “Tell Glorfindel to fall back.”

The elf lieutenant had a dark look about his expression as he stared at his lord in disbelief. He took a careful observation on the lord of Rivendell. Weariness weighed heavily upon his dirt-stained face; dark, long hair disheveled. His thousand years eyes that would usually emanated wisdom that his subjects could always depend upon was now seemed empty. Lost even.

“I cannot leave you like this. You are hurt,” objected Reanor, jaw tight as he briefly studied the bloody shoulder of the ancient lord, “Who will protect you?”

“Who will protect my people?” asked Lord Elrond instead, his eyes swimming with emotion. “Evacuate the city. Get them anywhere but here. We need to save those that still live.”

Reanor was a warrior; a lieutenant. It was his job to be strong. To inspire and carry on his duty. But now, upon hearing the doom in his lord’s order, he felt nothing but heartbreak that threaten to break his spirits.

A tight grab on his armored shoulder by Lord Elrond caught his attention.

“They need you more than I do, Reanor,” said Lord Elrond, his voice almost drowned by the sound of catapults upon catapults launched by the enemy. “You are young. You still have a long way ahead of you. I believe you will do everything necessary for the survival of our people. My only wish…” the wise elf shakily took his ring off of his finger and put it in Reanor's palm, “…is that you give this to my sons.”

At this point emotions had already set a fog in Reanor's eyes, and he was close to cry right there in front of his lord.

“Give me that knife,” Lord Elrond grunted as he moved to unsheathe the blade that was strapped to Reanor’s hip, then moved back to rest his back on the stone wall behind him, his left hand maintaining a pressure on his injured right shoulder.

“Now I have all I need to fend for myself,” murmured Lord Elrond. “Go, Reanor. They are not looking for you. They’re looking for me,” he said, as if that would make Reanor feel better.

Swallowing hard, the young elf lieutenant steeled himself. “I will go, but I will send help as soon as I can. What else can be done for you, sire?”

A brief silence stretched between the two elves as they locked eyes, for what seemingly like a last time.

“Save as many as you can.”

***

At some point, Wanda had lost her slippers as she, like everybody else, scrambled away from the falling debris of the Hall of Starlight. The brunette now ran barefoot, feeling dirt and dried leaves on the soles of her feet as she hauled her pregnant sister out of the crumbling dome.

The mortal girl wasn’t sure which is more terrifying; death by falling rocks and debris from the gigantic Hall of Starlight, or death by the fiery catapults that they now might face as they got out of the safety of the hall.

With a gasp and a cry, Belethiel wept; both with worry for her husband and _nana,_ the other for the fact that she felt a contraction down her lower belly. But she kept pushing, letting her adopted sister lead her amidst the chaos and the heart shattering deaths of her kin.

She ran and ran, until she couldn’t anymore. Panicked, the blonde _elleth_ cried in both anguish and pain as a sharp, needle-like pain stung her abdomen.

Her baby. Her baby!

“ _Oh Eru_! I can’t run anymore! Please stop,” she cried.

Wanda looked back, slowing down but refusing to completely stop. Not with this fiery catapults firing at them. But when she saw the pain streaking her sister’s expression and the way her free arm clutched tightly around her belly, Wanda was forced to momentarily stop.

Through her gasp for air, Wanda scanned Belethiel down to find her legs drenched with moisture.

Her water was broken.

“H-he’s hurting. My baby is hurting,” the young _elleth_ wept with a tremble, pleading with her eyes, “I-I can’t run anymore,” sobbed Belethiel fearfully, eyes glistening with pained tears.

Wanda placed a comforting and supporting arm around her sister’s back. She felt her tremble; from fear or pain. Most likely both. “Yes you can,” insisted Wanda evenly, remaining calm for her sister, “You have to. For the baby. We can’t stay here. We need to go to the forest. Lay low. You understand? Come on, I’ll help you. You can d—”

A warning scream, then a powerful blast shot her flying backwards, followed with muted, static sounds. Disoriented, she tried to see past the smoke, coughing and grunting with pain, but all she could hear was the loud ringing on her ears.

When her sight cleared and the smoke began to fade, all Wanda could see was bodies. Both elves and orcs, spread across the ground. Bloodied. Lifeless. Some had their empty eyes staring up to the night sky, making her wonder if the same stars that she danced to earlier also bore witness to the monstrosity that had occurred this night.

 _“Oi! Look what I found 'ere! Ehehehe!_ ” said a high pitched, dirty voice from a distance, setting a red flag in Wanda’s head.

“ _Nice! Never had a baby elf-filth before. The flesh must be tender! Sweet!”_

An excited screech of the dark creatures rang, louder as Wanda slowly got her hearing back.

_“Come on! Hurry while it is still fresh!”_

An ugly mocking sing-song, then a female scream that was cut short unnaturally.

“ _Hurry boys! We have no time playing with the food! The boss wants the elf lord! Finish your business quick!”_

The brunette pressed her lips as she endured the pain from trying to roll herself so she was lying on her back. She managed to propped her head slightly, watching as a buff, dirty skinned Uruk with a braided dark matter hair made his way towards the house of Elrond. A fresh, still dripping scarlet marred his dark blade.

“ _Shall we cut her open then, eh?”_

_“Aargh. Stupid orc scum! There’s a way to cut open a belly and that's not it! Give me the knife, watch and learn!”_

When Wanda finally able to turn to her side, then she realized just what the orcs had been arguing about.

A surge of power blasted out of her hands, throwing the three orcs backwards, away from the unconscious body of her sister. Then an angered, high pitched screech from the beasts that might as well screamed murder at her. They lunged at her, but her powers easily sent them flying backwards one more time.

She made sure none of them got back up again.

“B-Bel,” murmured Wanda as she crawled on the ground towards her sister who lay facing away from her. When she finally got to her elf sister, she turned her body and instantly flinched at the sight of her bloody chest.

The moment the avenger saw the emptiness in the once beautiful, lively eyes that belonged to her sister staring back at her, Wanda lost it.

At first, she didn’t recognize the strange sound that came out of her throat. A groan of pain, almost choking sound came out of her in a strange way as tears blurred her sight. Wanda desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from her sister’s chest whilst calling her back to no avail. She no longer cared about marring the beautiful white dress that she was wearing with blood and dirt. She forgot where she was; who she was– couldn’t care less; not even as her scarlet powers blasted out of her, sending everything else around her to shatter.

The mortal girl lifted her sister’s body to her chest as she wailed like a child, hugging her close as she rocked her body in her arms. Her cries ripped the air, joining the cries of the people of Rivendell.

***

The only defense that Rivendell had was Leane. But even as a seasoned warrior herself, she knew her limits and knew just how far she could push.

This war was a lost one.

She had been strategically targeting the powers that ran through her veins towards the thing that caused the most damage: the catapults.

Those artilleries that stood 40-50 feet above the ground were the ones responsible razing Rivendell to rubble. From a distance, the weapon dealt a great damage; even the stoned wall of the Hall of Starlight was unable to endure its assault.

Perhaps she had taken down most of the heavy weapons. And though by doing so the princess of Mirkwood had saved many, but still not nearly as many as she would like. Even with most of the catapults out of the way, the enemy still came with a mighty host. The elves of Rivendell were hopelessly outnumbered, and her power alone wasn’t enough to save all of them.

The eerie blue that glowed in her usually obsidian eyes marked the fact that she was beginning to be depleted of her energy. And from experience, she could tell that it was a downhill from there. But for the sake of the innocent lives around her, she pushed forward.

“To the pass of the mountain! Quickly!” ordered Reanor to the civilians that followed them towards the stony border of Rivendell. Or at least to what was left of them. “There! The bridge!”

Elves hurriedly ran towards their salvation with tears and blood marring their sorrowful faces. Beautiful and broken, but they still had a fight in them; so Leane vowed not to stop fighting.

The mortal princess drifted her gaze towards the place they once called home. Hers too, for the first few moments of her life in Middle Earth. Rivendell burned, and she still didn’t see her husband, couldn’t feel him down the soul bond they shared.

“The mountain shall give us the cover we need from the hoard,” muttered Glorfindel, though his expression hard and somber. He pointed to an opening of the mountain, “…from that gap, we make for what remains of Lothlorien. You are to destroy the bridge once these people make it to the other side.”

Leane looked at the golden haired warrior elf with a baffled look on her expression. “What about the rest of us?”

A clipped answer. “We fight. Reanor shall took leadership over what’s left of our people.”

The mortal princess felt her eyes stung with emotion at what Glorfindel was implying. He meant to stay behind. In all years she had walked Middle Earth, this was a new kind of despair; knowing that her comrades are walking into a sure death for the sake of their people.

“You’ll die.”

Her quiet words was met with silence from the elf warrior. The petite female grabbed Glofindel's bicep tightly, as if in an attempt to wake him up. “Even if I come with you, I am not strong enough to win over this darkness–“

“–which is why I am asking you to please follow Reanor–”

“–No, you _did not_ –“ she insisted, tears now fell to her cheek as she angrily insisted on fighting whatever nonsense her friend was suggesting.

“–this has never been your fight. You have done so much for us, princess,” countered Glorfindel with a sad smile as he held her hand. “Go on live to fight for another day.”

“You forgot one thing,” she said with a cracked voice, “My husband, my friends, are still out there. And I am not leaving without them.”

Moments had passed between them as both friends came to a silent agreement. As the last elf made it through the bridge, Glorfindel cast his eyes towards the burning city. Waiting.

No one came back. But a hoard of orcs and Uruks could be seen making their way towards them.

“ _Tolo_ (come)!” urged Reanor from afar, across the bridge, beckoning Glorfindel and Leane to follow after him.

Striking blue eyes of Glorfindel met Reanor’s puzzled ones, wondering what was the delay.

“ _Goheno nin, mellon. Galu_ (I’m sorry, friend. Good luck).”

It was Glorfindel's parting words before Leane crouched herself at the ground. Again, she tapped to the power of the ancient trees of Rivendell. She felt her _fëa_ (spirit) reached out and became one with the forest, the woody bark of the tree roots became the extension of her hands.

The ground shook as mighty tree roots emerged from the ground almost violently, cracking sounds of the waking of the ancient forest of Rivendell sent the ground trembling. Following her command, the old, monstrous woody roots came alive, firing itself towards the bridge as if with such hate and fire that the trees seemed to harbor for millennia.

In an instant the bridge was broken. What was left of the stony structure was now freefalling to the mighty Bruinen River below them, severing the way back for the people of Rivendell from their home.

With a determination, both Glorfindel and Leane turned their gaze away from the people they tried to save, and towards the bands of orcs sprinting their ways.

Glorfindel once again drew his broad sword, blue eyes melancholy, yet he managed to seem almost playful as he gestured to Leane.

“Are you ready, your highness?”

“…No,” Leane grumbled, wiping the remaining of the tears on her cheek. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and steeled herself. “But do I have a choice?”

***

[ **Author's Note** : Sorry, turns out Wanda don’t get to hulk out in this chapter yet. But next chapter, I promise. I need feedback, how’d the chapter go so far? I realize that there’s probably holes in it, but please be kind. If you have suggestions on how the battle should be written down, please please let me know, because writing battle scenes and strategizing isn’t really my forte. Feel free to comment & vote if you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading, sexy readers ❤️]


	9. Rescued

It would have been better if they killed her as soon as they got her.

Instead, they dragged her across the ruins of the Court of the Fellowship right there for everyone to see.

_Everyone._

That included Glorfindel, Erestor, her husband, and whoever else were left, save the twins.

Oh how she wished the twins have some hidden tricks up their sleeves.

The princess of Rivendell had her muscles protesting in agony at her, heart pounding erratically at whatever fate handed to her this time. She knew that it was impossible for her to be this happy with her second life. Mike did promise her a good life, and good life did she have, but she damn well know that it was too good to be true.

Fighting the sting of betrayal at that thought, Leane kept her chin up even as the Uruk harshly kicked behind her leg to force her into a kneeling position. With hate she looked up into the piercing amber eyes of her enemy.

Her _fugly_ enemy. She would love to blast her power at him, hatefully squeeze the life out of him had her energy not been depleted trying to defend the elven city all night and all day long.

The Uruk before her gave a malicious grin that showed a bad set of blackened teeth. Truly nightmarish, especially if you’re a dentist.

“Long have I waited for this moment,” he began with a mock reference, his rumbling voice deep yet it sounded as if someone had scratched their nails upon a board, and one couldn’t help but cringe, “Your reputation precedes you.”

The princess of Mirkwoord, having put there in the center of the ruins for everyone to see, felt like she had to say something smart, but could come up with nothing. So she spit as hard as she could at the dark creature and gave him her best glare.

To Leane’s surprise, he laughed as if she just told him a funny joke, but soon the force of his hand hitting her face sent her form falling to her side. Her eyes watered with the sheer pain on the left side of her cheek. She fought against the urge of the darkness that tried to pull her under, tasting the tang of rust inside her mouth. She proceeded to spit blood on the once beautiful ivory ceramics decorating the elvish court like a champ.

No matter how much she wanted to break down and weep at the wave of desperate agony and wrath coming off of the bond she had with her husband, the female human refused to turn to look into his electric blue eyes no matter how much he was begging her to.

 _Stay down. Please. Do not say anything more, melleth nin_ (my love).

She ignored Legolas’ plea, and instead stubbornly kept her chin up, glaring at the sick son of a bitch in front of her with a challenge in her own eyes. A kick on her stomach let her know that she succeeded in annoying the Uruk with the braided matted straws he called hair.

She bit her lip so hard to keep herself from screaming out of pain– _good life my ass, Mike–HELP US!–_ she prayed to the Valar.

Had she not been too preoccupied with pain, she would’ve enjoyed Legolas' brief confusion at hearing her thoughts. But as silly as it was to call for help from a Valar that looked like Morgan Freeman, he was the only one she could think of right now. Desperate situation calls for desperate measure, and Mike was the closest thing to a guardian angel that she could pray to.

“…This… is your symbol of hope?” mocked the uruk, addressing the last of the warrior elves that were captured, but not killed right away just so the orcs could torture them. “This… mewling creature?” he added with contempt as he kicked the woodland princess with the tip of his metal boot as she tried to get up again.

With a grunt Leane pushed herself to a sitting position, relentlessly glaring at him just to annoy him. She wiped the blood from the side of her mouth and huffed.

“That all you got?” she asked sassily.

“No,” replied the Uruk, yellow eyes gleaming with bad intentions at her chocolate ones, now clearly thinking of her as the like of fleas that are stubborn and hard to kill.

But this time was different, and Barthog, the Uruk, did not want to waste any more time despite how much he wanted to personally torture her for being so exhausting. He took a step forward, towering above her with a smirk on his dark and deformed face.

“My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee goodbye.”

If the atmosphere of the once serene court wasn’t deathly, it was now as the name of their cursed enemy was once again pronounced in the sacred city. When Leane felt herself being lifted off the ground by her neck and her air supply being cut off, she knew she didn’t have long.

Leane could hear Legolas’ shouts being muffled by the leather gag on his mouth all the way here, and she felt how much he struggled to hold on to their bond for dear life as she began to slip away. As it happened, Leane began to regret not looking into his eyes when he begged her to earlier. She should have, now she might never get the chance anymore.

With the remaining consciousness she had, she sent one last thought down their soul bond, lovingly, as the caress of their souls meant a thousand unspoken words.

_Live, My Legolas._

***

The prince’s heart raced erratically with his short, quick breaths as he watched in both wrath and agony while his worst nightmare came to pass right in front of his eyes.

He couldn’t protect her. No matter how hard he struggled, he was enslaved to his bonds.

What kind of husband let such monstrosity happen before his eyes and not do anything about it?

Legolas' face turned red with wrath and pain as he saw her being abused for all to see. Like she was not a princess. Like her life didn’t matter. Like she was nothing.

The thought angered him further and he pushed back the reservoir in his eyes that threaten to spill in helplessness. With more anger. More wrath.

 _No. Please. Please,_ he begged her. _Don’t antagonize him. Keep your head down_ , he beseeched her down their soul bond.

When she didn’t listen, she did pay for it, and Legolas felt her every pain as if it were his. And his roar would have filled the entire atmosphere and he would have done unspeakable things to his enemy had he not been restrained by these shameful gag and chains behind his back.

And when the name of their old enemy slipped past the beast's tongue, a heavy atmosphere of a familiar darkness descended upon the ground like a thick blanket; a nightmare he wanted to erase from memory.

Yet the warrior prince had no time to ponder as he witnessed how his wife was suddenly being lifted to the edge of life and death, at the mercy of the cursed beast. Legolas' violent shouts were muffled by the gag around his mouth. He felt the strain on their soul bond as their _fëa_ (soul) being threatened to forever be severed by her death.

It was hell. It was agony.

Beyond his own excruciating pain, a shout filled the air. As swiftly as it came, the pain suddenly stopped altogether.

Panting through his teeth, his body trembled as he braved himself to look. His wife was on the ground, unmoving. Someone had taken her place.

Legolas didn’t notice when exactly the lord of Rivendell showed up, but there he was.

“You want me. Now here I am,” said Lord Elrond, placing himself between Leane and the Uruk.

Despite the fact that his appearance bought Leane some time, Legolas still seethed silently, knowing that having the wise elf here would give away their only chance of protecting Arda.

Lord Elrond's once majestic, elegant robe of white and gold were torn at some places. Both dirt and blood smeared what used to be a fine fabric. His expression were weary, yet despite the injury on his bloodied shoulder, the elf lord stood tall, thousand year eyes staring valiantly with strength still.

Barthog let out a dark, sinister laughter; one that lasted too long for anyone to deem sane. A flick of his fingers, and a couple orcs came forward and chained the lord of Rivendell, tightening it around his neck and bringing him to his knees.

Through his ragged breathing, the wise elf looked up to the eyes of his enemy, “Let my people go. You have me.”

“Let us make haste,” answered the Uruk with a rumbling voice, leaning down so that his rotten, crooked nose was almost touching Lord Elrond's, “Where is the lamp?”

The ancient elf lord was unmoved. “Let my people go.”

“Just in case you don’t notice, you have no power of bargain here,” snarled the wretched creature. The Uruk took out a knife out of his boots and gave a signal to his cronies.

The blade he held were jagged with dark, typical Orcish material. It was designed with the sole intention of bringing more pain and suffering to anyone being at the receiving end of that knife. A purplish colored gem shone bright as it sat upon its metallic hilt. It caught the eyes of the lord of Rivendell. He gasped silently before a loud, agonized groan of pain escaped his lips as the orcs pressed his bloodied shoulder down roughly and have him stared up to the sky and to the face of his oppressor. In his heart, Elrond prayed to Eru that he would be granted enough strength to protect the last defense that Arda had left from this darkness.

Staring at the point of the orcish blade, Lord Elrond suddenly forgot to breathe as he watched the tip of the blade with a well concealed dread.

“If you wish to keep your eyeballs, elf–WHERE. IS. THE LAMP?!” demanded Barthog impatiently.

Silence.

 _Too long_.

Then as Barthog lifted up his blade to the sky with a cry, Legolas heard Erestor grunted in pain at knowing what was going to become to his old friend and master. What the beast was going to do to him.

A loud thud bumped against the ground. An unlikely figure raised from her crouching position as if she just fell straight from a tree on both her feet. Only there was no trees left standing around.

Glorfindel and Erestor looked at each other with bafflement in their eyes; both elves noticing the same peculiar thing as the female mortal came in with ruby glowing in her tear streaked eyes.

_What is this devilry?_

***

Wanda landed on her bare feet, the muscles in her fingers were taut, forming a claw as she stared hatefully at the Uruk that took her sister’s life.

Barthog looked up to the sky dumbfounded, then back to the human, not understanding where the female with the tattered and bloodied white dress came from. He then snarled at the petite woman who had marked him for death.

“You,” she murmured dangerously, “…took _everything_ away from me,” seethed the Avenger through gritted teeth.

Her broken voice was not only heavy with her original Russian accent, but also hurt and hatred that was not just skin deep. It was the darkness that had built up inside her for decades; from the loss of her home. Her parents. Brother. Friends. And now sister and her would be newborn. That darkness fueled the surge of power that now burned in her veins; waiting to be released as the storm that was raging in her chest.

Lord Elrond, being the one in closest proximity to the mortal next to the Uruk, shuddered at the sheer vengeance marring her eerie, quiet voice. Meanwhile, not wanting to lose the moment of distraction, Legolas and Glorfindel both were close to cutting off the bond behind them with their spare elven dagger that they concealed with them.

“Bah!” growled Barthog impatiently, “ I don’t even know you!”

Wanda's expression turned sour yet not less hateful.

“You will,” she replied menacingly.

The scarlet in her eyes grew as the ground began to shook. The big, stony rubbles from what used to be the house of Elrond began to defy gravity as a red surge of power surrounded the ruins.

Just before she fired the ruins towards the Uruk, both Legolas and Glorfindel managed to grabbed Leane and Lord Elrond respectively out of the way as the orcs were too preoccupied by the presence of the unknown human.

The Uruk was more than met the eyes.

The orcs around him didn’t stand a chance. But Barthog, though stunned, managed to stand his ground, using his blade to deflect the angry blast of power coming out of the Avenger's deceiving, delicate hands. Wanda had not time to think how the Uruk managed to stand her vengeful oppression. Her wrath had shadowed all common sense with red, blinding her to everything that transpired around her. All she knew was just getting him to feel what _she_ felt.

At the same time, the warrior elves who were captives managed to escape from their bond and turned towards their captors. A band of foreign elves appeared from their various hiding spots. All of them well seasoned warrior chosen to come to Rivendell’s aid. They had found the perfect timing to take back the land and fulfill their oath. A battle cry, one that witnessed relentless hope and fight for their kin’s home were sounded throughout the lands.

“ _GURTH GOTH RIM TIL' IMLADRIS!_ ” shouted a voice, as they unsheathed their sword, coming out of their hiding, “CHARGE!!”

“DEATH!!”

All hell broke loose.

***

Despite the power that he grasped within his hand, Barthog knew he would no longer be able to hold the blasts that the female fired one after another towards him. With an angered, frustrated groan he dragged the command out of his filthy mouth.

 **“Baldok!”** He shouted in his native, Orcish language to his lieutenant, **“…Rain…Fire!”**

The said lieutenant orc blew his horn, the sound deep yet scratchy in a way that sent the elves' hair stood behind their neck.

Suddenly a boom appeared a few distance away from where they were.

Then another. Another.

An earth shattering boom shot right in front of Wanda, sending her flying backwards and separating her from her enemy. She groaned, forced to cease her fire as boulders were catapulted all around her. Pain jolted across her whole form as she forced herself back up to face her enemy. But seeing the scene all around her snapped her from her own pursuit of justice.

Innocent elves were shot at.

_They’re dying._

Refusing to let what happened to her sister to happen again, she rose to her feet. Instead of running towards her escaping enemy, she sprinted towards where the catapult was going to hit next.

The Scarlet Witch shot her red blast of energy towards the earth, propelling herself up to the sky. With a thud she landed on her feet in front of the elves, facing an incoming catapult. Instinctively she brought her hands up. From her fingers she created a shield of red energy that was enough to withstand the hit of the incoming catapults–saving the elves from a certain death.

If the elves weren’t sure whose side the Avenger were on, now they knew.

She held up her shield fast as she looked behind her shoulder, face constricted into focus and a cringe at the same time as she addressed the group of the shocked elves. “Get away from here!” she shouted at them urgently.

The elves broke out of their stupor and scrambled, their swords held true in their hands. Another ball of catapult were launched towards her side to which she almost didn’t manage to block. Wanda stumbled sideways, and looked up in annoyance.

These remaining catapults… They were distractions she needed to eliminate.

***

An unnatural scarlet energy was seen being shot up towards the sky from afar. Elladan had to squint his eyes to believe that his sight didn’t deceive him. He gawked, thinking it not possible for a person to fly.

_‘A person?’_

_‘Yes, Ro. I swear I’m not imagining it. They landed just behind the enemy's line– Behind you.’_

Due to his brother’s warning, Elrohir had enough time to gut an especially ugly orc that was sneaking behind him. With disgust, the younger twin pulled out his fine sword by kicking the body of the dark creature away with his boot.

_‘Thank you, brother. On your left.’_

Elladan pulled out his bow and arrow, shooting it at the Uruk that also had a bow and arrow pointed at him far from his left side. Dan was faster. Just as he landed his arrow bull’s eye between the Uruk’s eyes, the sound of the enemy’s machinery crumbling down to earth reached the twins' elven ears.

‘ _Whoever it is seems to be friendly. Go check it out. I’ll take things from here.’_

Elrohir nodded, eyes sharp yet a hint of mischievous smile graced his lips. ‘ _Don’t die without me._ ’

 _'Not a chance_. _Go_.’

With a smirk, Elrohir left, his strides long, urgent and watchful. The elf warrior was able to murder a few orcs and uruks on his way. When he got to the site where the catapults were nothing but ruins, a figure stood amongst the deaths.

He would recognize her anywhere, even as her back was turned on him. The soft curve of her body was accentuated by the simple, silky white dress she was wearing. Elrohir was enamored just by how delicate her waist was, how her brunette hair were flowing as the chilly air of Rivendell blew through them. Her form was small and seemingly fragile as the wind blew past her. Her fingers were curled at her sides, as if she was dancing.

His heart longed for her to turn, to show him her face so he knew she was unharmed.

She did.

The first thing he noticed was the soft silhouette of her nose and lips. Then her eyes; they were scarlet, angry as a ruby. She faced him, and he was paralyzed by what he saw.

This was not the Wanda that he knew and loved. Wrath and thirst—something that he couldn't figure out filled her expression. She lifted her hands, a dance, scarlet swirled around her beautiful fingers, as angry as her eyes were.

His eyes were momentarily covered by red, until he realized that the scarlet of power wasn’t directed towards him. He turned around just as he heard a thud of bodies dropping.

Black blood spurted out of the freshly torn limbs of the two orcs that were sneaking behind him. Elrohir's jaw went slacked–it was just like that day when he found the band of orcs being slaughtered near the border.

 _It was her_.

Was he really that blind that he didn’t see it before? How could he not know that his lover bore such secret with her?

When he turned around, Wanda was already gone. A blast of red energy was up on the sky; landed to the another side of the city.

The younger twin had so many questions in his head–ones that had to wait until this war was over.

***

[ **Author's Note** : Bold words are in Orcish. I don’t know what to feel about this chapter. I feel it’s not that great, like it’s missing something, you know? Leave me comments below, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Need your feedback to help me write better. I’m rusty! Damn this writer’s block! Anyway thanks for reading and voting and for being patient with me. Wear yo mask.]


	10. A Score To Settle

[Wanda's POV]

The powers that had laid dormant for more than a decade inside of me was finally awaken. Again and always–by hatred. Vengeance.

I thought I was a better person, that I was doing good. That I had myself under control and had left all of that darkness worlds away.

I was wrong.

The same bitter hate that I harbored for Stark, for Ultron, myself, Thanos–it returned with such vengeance all at once. This time I had neither a brother to back me up, nor my teammates to keep me from myself. Nothing and no one was pulling me back from this darkness.

So I embraced it. And I was happily unleashing all of that into the world around me.

The crisp wind that reeked of death blew against my face and hair as I sprinted. Towards the orcs and the uruks. Towards their wretched kind; and I promised myself that I would wipe them off of the face of this lands–and I’d save their leader for last so he could watch me slaughter all of them.

With a thud I landed on the cold soil of Rivendell, blocking the way of a group of orcs that was being chased by the sword of the elves. When they saw me, they froze and let out a sinister growl and turned the other way only to find angry warrior elves running towards them.

“You have nowhere to go.”

As those words left my lips, I lifted my left hand, scarlet sphere of energy danced around my fingers as they bend to my will. The high pitched, agonized shrieks coming off of the disgusting creature filled the air, and I on purposely prolong the torture I inflicted on them just so they could feel what I feel.

I bent my right hand away from me, and their screams of torment almost drown the sound of their cracking bones, skins and sinews being stretched past their ability to hold. With force, I pulled my both hands apart and the screaming stopped altogether. Torn bodies and limbs were scattered across the floor, heads rolled away on what used to be a pristine ground.

Even so, my wrath hadn’t subsided and all I wanted was just to destroy everything on my path and break them as they broke me.

My eyes met the eyes of the group of elves that stood a good few feet away from me. Through the red and the heat in my eyes, I saw the fear in their eyes as they held up their various weapons.

I was expecting them to try to attack me, but to my surprise they began to lower their weapon, and I took it as my cue to go.

I still had a score to settle.

The battle around us had slowed. The city, despite the deaths and destruction, still stood. Warriors charged, chasing after remaining orcs that tried to flee the elves. Without their catapults and their numbers, they were nothing but dumb, heartless beasts.

It was impossible to cover the whole city by myself to look for one uruk. So I projected my power towards the minds of every dark creature that I came to pass before I killed them. My search brought me towards the suburb near the flow of the mighty Bruinen River.

A group of elves dressed in border patrol armors were chasing after the same uruk that I did. Amongst the warriors, Elladan shouted his orders, and the other elves quickly chased the remaining orcs that followed the uruk. His steel grey eyes were sharp and deathly cold as he drew another arrow from his quiver. Just as he nocked his arrow, I shot a small blast of energy to his direction, just enough to disarm him.

His head whipped, expression darkened with rage at the foe that the eldest twin thought had knocked the arrow off of his fingers. But when he saw me, a look of astonishment crossed his feature.

“He’s mine,” I seethed in warning–that I wasn’t afraid to hurt him if he got in my way.

The young elf lord stood his ground. I marched towards the uruk, for once disregarding the stray orcs that was battling the Rivendell elves. As I walked forward with one goal in mind, my fingers began to twitch as I gather the ruins of the battle all around me in the air. The heavy stones, bricks, glasses and metals whirred in the air above me as I twisted my fingers.

And I let them crash upon the uruk.

As the smoke cleared, I found the uruk being pinned by a heavy boulder resting on top of his middle and his legs. He groaned in pain, throat making dirty noises as his air was being almost cut off by the weight upon him. Black blood had trickled down his mouth.

When he saw me, he croaked into laughter.

Another surge of hatred stung my chest, leaving bitter ash in my mouth.

“Tell me,” I said as I knelt next to him, “Did you also laugh when you killed her?”

The uruk laughed again through his pain. “Who… is she?” he cackled menacingly, his amber eyes staring up at me in hate. “I’ve killed countless… elf filth!” he spitted.

My eyes began to blur with both the pain and the wrath knowing that he didn’t even knew who my sister was.

“Her name was Bellethiel. She was innocent. She was pregnant with what would be her firstborn,” I said lowly, “But you took that away from her. _From me_.”

He laughed again, mocking me. My blood boiled inside my veins.

“ _Murderer_ ,” I dragged the word hatefully, gritting my teeth, as I pressed against the injury he had on his shoulder, making him scream, “ _Blasphemer_ ,” my angry, grieved tears began to fell on my cheek. “Do you know how it felt when you took her?”

I laid my fingers on top of his chest. His cry of agony rang in my ears, but it was brief. With the force of my power, I tore the skin and the flesh of the damned uruk and swiftly pulled his beating heart out of his chest.

The black heart was warm in my hand as I held it. It only managed to beat once in my hand before stopping altogether. Ink was spilled in my arm and to my dress as I looked at his empty, dead amber eyes, mouth still open as he screamed his last breath.

“It felt like that.”

***

[Third Person's POV]

Victory belonged to Rivendell, but no one rejoiced, for their deaths were too many.

Those who still lived and were not consumed entirely by grief were doing what they could to help the injured ones, making makeshift healing wing and prioritizing on those with life threatening injuries first. The rest were left scouring the ruins for their loved ones and relatives, or for any survivors.

The Avenger sat on the ground amongst the ruins. It was now silent despite the number of elves around her as they look for survivors amongst the dead. They mostly left her to herself. Beside the relatively quiet elves, all she could hear were only the sound of trees swaying by the wind and the sound of the eternal flow of Bruinen River. The sounds of nature used to bring her peace, but not anymore. The air still reeked of death– _she_ reeked of death, and the blood of the uruk was still in her hands.

Wanda stared at her hands in disgust and hated herself. There was always blood in her hands; she was never truly clean.

Far ahead, she saw a guard taking off his helmet. He dipped his sword into the ground and fell to his knees; shoulders sagging. Another elf followed suit.

Wanda forced herself to her feet and slowly made her way towards the edge of the water.

Lifeless bodies were floating above the water, both elves and orcs. Some dead ellith still had their flower crowns on their heads; little elflings locked in their dead parent's embrace as the Bruinen River carried their rigid bodies.

The tears that leaked from her eyes were uncontainable. The moment she saw a familiar face among the dead, she quickly jumped into the cold water, trying to get to them.

_Elenduil._

_Arsfagoth and his brother Aranin._

_Liliniel._

_Aradan._

_Lady Melliel and her husband._

_Little Erinior._

_The grumpy yet kind florist she met at the market._

Wanda cried as she kept coming across more familiar face; either her neighbors or her customers or the people she often conversed with at the market at the outskirt of the city. There was too many of them. Too many innocent blood spilled.

_Sciron._

_Baldir._

_Remafiel and his wife Alaseä._

_Levefiel and her baby–_

_Her mama._

It felt as if someone had stabbed her in the chest with a morgoth blade and twisted the knife. As the torrent of tears blurred her eyes, she struggled against the water current to the deeper side of the river to get to her mama before it took her body out of her reach. She was only neck deep in the water, yet she already felt like drowning inside. She suffocated, frustrated as her mama seemed to stray further from her reach.

Before she could lose herself in the current, a firm hand was on her waist, and through her blurred vision she caught that deep steel grey eyes that were so open.

_Loving. Grieving. Determined._

With his left arms around her waist, Elrohir held her close as his other hand reached for Ellethiel's dead body. The elf warrior steadily led Wanda and her adoptive mother’s body towards the shore.

Elrohir watched as his lover wailed in much agony and despair that her whole body shook as she rocked her dead mama in her arms. He couldn’t even control the leak in his eyes as he watched Wanda. He felt helpless, grieved and angry.

_Why did Eru let this tragedy befell them?_

***

[ **Author's Note** : Damnit that’s sad. I wanna bury myself in self pity and despair. Someone love me. Notice me, Senpai

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 ** _Wear yo mask_** ]


	11. See You As I Do

She had decided to stop crying ever since she buried her mama and sister. She was an Avenger; and she did serve her purpose. She avenged their deaths and promised herself that she would be strong.

What’s left was a numbed pain, one that wasn’t physical, yet she felt it across her skin, seeping into her very bones. It would’ve been better if Bellethiel had died just like that. Yet what lied in front of her complicates everything.

–Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.

“Wanda,” called Erestor, bringing her attention back to him. The advisor's eyes were kind and considerate, “Are you ready?”

 _How could anyone?_ Wanda answered inwardly. Instead nothing came out of her; not even a nod. Even Elrohir gave her a supportive smile, yet she couldn’t respond to that as well.

This past week Elrohir had learned that the woman that he had fallen in love with, may or may not exist anymore. That shy, warm girl was now cold, unreadable and faraway. But Elrohir was true to his heart. He would stand by her no matter what.

For some reason Erestor took Wanda’s silence as an approval. Elrond's advisor moved away, revealing a beautiful elleth who was sitting gracefully by a bed on the vast healing wing–or what was left of it from the war– gently rocking a small bundle in her arms.

A baby. The elleth smiled at the Avenger warmly and gave her somewhat a hopeful smile. Wanda felt all eyes on her, and it irritated her slightly.

“’Tis’ a baby girl. She is beautiful, just like her _naneth_ (mother),” stated Erestor fondly as he took the baby in his arms carefully and rocked her.

Wanda made no move nor changes in her expression as she watched the bundle of fabric in Erestor's arms. “How is this possible?” she questioned.

“By the grace of the Valar, one of our healer that was running away from the enemy passed your adoptive sister’s body and went to check on her. She saw that your sister was unconscious, and decided to use her gift of healing to reach for her _feä._ Bellethiel's was already passed to the Hall of Mandos, yet the baby was still there, barely hanging on to the world of living. So she made a last minute decision to perform an emergency surgery and saved her.”

“But she was dead,” the human responded defensively. Who was she try to defend, she didn’t even know. “That’s impossible.”

“Like I said, it is by the grace of the Valar that the baby lives. ‘Tis rare, yet not impossible,” replied Erestor patiently as he smiled to the baby. “Such a gift,” he cooed to the baby, before turning his eyes to Wanda, “We have yet to see how time unravel The Valar’s plan for the blessed child.”

“You mean the same being that you put your faith on, the same being that let the orcs ruin your home?” she responded with a heavy accent in her quiet, cold voice. “The Valar you’re talking about is a kid with an ant farm, Erestor. He’s not planning anything.”

Elrohir's face fell at the bitterness that marred her voice, while at the same time both Erestor and the elleth looked at her with concern and sympathy. They knew she was grieving, yet none of them could really decipher the ways of the Valar and gave her the answer she needed.

“Even the very wise cannot see all ends,” said a voice from behind them that belong to the lord of Imladris himself. “Such is the mystery of life. We must have faith or we have nothing.”

All eyes turned to him as he swiped the clean, ivory sheet that served as the screen entrance to the healing wing. A circlet sat on top of his head; his face was still slightly pale and the scratches on the side of his face seemed to fade slightly. The smile on his face was genuine as he greet everyone and peered closer to see the baby in Erestor's arms. Soon the bundle were moved to Elrond's arms, who seemed genuinely happy to hold the baby.

“Everybody loves her. I have lost count on how many arms have hold her today. I think she even has my _Ada_ wrapped around her little fingers,” chirped Elrohir in an attempt to light up the atmosphere, which returned by smiles and a little chuckle from the others, except Wanda.

“Come closer and see your niece. Would you like to hold her?” asked Elrond, bringing the baby a step closer to Wanda.

Seeing the elf leaned over to give her the baby, Wanda had no choice but to take the baby. Elrond gently give the baby to Wanda’s slightly awkward arms position, and only let go until the wise elf was sure that she had her hold steady.

The baby was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes upon. But seeing the baby looking up at her made her heart constricted in the most punishing way possible.

 _The baby’s eyes_ –she had Bellethiel's eyes. Wanda felt her throat closing up the moment she saw the baby. Immediately she felt like she was melting inside and there was a sudden torrent of despair that she was trying so hard to forget. The reservoir in her eyes started to well up…

Before the baby could hurt her again, The Avenger quickly returned the baby in Elrond's arm as if the bundle of joy actually burned her skin. The lord of Rivendell gave her a confused, worried look.

“I don’t want her,” Wanda stated coldly.

“But you’re her guardian now. Her parents are gone,” Erestor stated matter of factly.

Wanda cast her eyes away. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m not a guardian material.”

“If you don’t take her she will be claimed by someone else. The Arduillon expressed their interest of taking her in the first time when we thought she had no one else. They would take her away–to Ithillien–”

“–Good,” she snapped at Erestor. The elf had a slightly hurt look on his face. Wanda inhaled quietly, “I’m grateful,” she rectified with a slightly calmer tone. “I’m sure they’ll take care of her.”

“Wanda–“

“–It’s better that way. I’m sorry.”

Just like that, Wanda turned away, her hand slipped past Elrohir yet he couldn’t stop her. As if the baby knew she had been rejected by her only family, the baby started to cry and got upset.

“Let her be, _ion nin_ ,” said Elrond as he moved to give the distressed baby back to the appointed elleth, looking somewhat worried for the child. “She’s hurting. Maybe letting her know about the child’s existence now was not the wisest idea, for the grieve is still too near for her.”

***

Weeks had passed. Many of the people of Rivendell were grieving. Those who were completely consumed by grieve and had nothing else to live for had departed to sail to Valinor before death claims them. Some who were strong enough to look past the war fought everyday just to wake up and live day by day for their loved one who still lived. Some chose to take refuge to Mirkwood or Ithillien to start new or simply to try to forget. But those who chose to stay behind worked tirelessly day and night in any way they could to rebuild Rivendell.

Wanda refused to see the baby since the last time she met her. Even when she bumped into her and her nanny, she would blatantly refuse to hold her and avoided the child like a plague. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t have the strength to hold the baby’s gaze. It would as if she was staring at Bellethiel's eyes.

It haunted her.

Elrohir's lips were suddenly pressed against hers–something that the mischievous warrior elf liked to do when she was lost in her own thoughts. She forced a smile as he caressed her cheek gently.

“Have you eaten, _melleth_?” asked Elrohir. Wanda nodded for his sake.

“When?”

“This morning.”

Elrohir frowned in disapproval. He got up to his feet wordlessly and went to the door, stopping a servant who happened to pass by and asking to bring food to Wanda's room.

“That is irresponsible. You could get sick,” protested Elrohir once he returned to her bed. “Tis’ already almost dinner time.”

“Me being irresponsible? You’re one to talk,” Wanda smiled a little, teasing the elf back.

“My mischiefs are somewhat more responsible. I and Elladan never missed a meal,” he muttered rather cockily.

“And you call honey cake a meal?”

“Better than nothing. Besides, they’re positively delectable,” Elrohir grinned, “Much like you.”

Wanda let out a small chuckle. “You’re full of shit, Ro.”

“You love it.”

She smiled at him without a further fight and gave in to Elrohir's arms. His embrace were warm and comforting, almost too careful. It had been that way ever since the passing of her adoptive family.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Ro turned his head to look into her doe eyes, smiling lazily at her. “What?”

“Treating me like I’m going to break anytime soon. I’m stronger than you think.”

“Everyone knows that you are,” Elrohir admitted as he ran his fingers along her arm mindlessly. “You are special.”

That got Wanda to let out a condescending snort, “Special my ass.”

Elrohir frowned, not because of hearing the crass language of her choice, but because of the negative implication from her statement. The younger twin easily maneuvered so he was on top of her, his arms at each side of her so he was not crushing her with his weight. He gave her disapproving look.

“First of all,” he started in protest, then his silver grey eyes drifted to her soft, pink lips, “How did such foul word come out of such a beautiful mouth?” he kissed the tip of her nose, causing her to chuckle. “Secondly, _what on Arda do you mean by that?_ ” he demanded unhappily, neat brows furrowed together in displeasure.

Wanda took the time to study the graceful plane of his face. His smooth, alabaster skin; the high, sculpted cheekbones that seem as if they were made by the hands of god himself; his silvery grey eyes that was cold like steel yet warm and playful like a child’s. His lips were shaped beautifully, so kissable and inviting that Wanda had to pry her eyes off of his mouth. The elf warrior noticed this and smirked rather knowingly at Wanda.

She gently traced his lower lip with her index finger. Elrohir’s eyes fluttered close at the feeling of her soft touch, his lips puckered a bit to kiss her small finger.

“Forget it,” Wanda finally whisoer. The petite woman pushed Ro aside and got up from her bed, walking towards the window of her room, looking out.

Elrohir let out a soft sigh as he sat up on her bed. “All I want is for you to see you,” he got up and snaked his arms around her waist from behind, whispering ever so softly to her right ear “…as I do.”

That last part got Wanda’s body to go rigid. The memory of Vision began to flood her mind. The guilt. The pain and the frustration that came with his death started to resurface. Unknowing to the storm that raged on the Avenger’s heart, the younger twin lord swiped her brunette hair back and planted a soft kiss on her exposed neck.

“This is not good,” Wanda suddenly stated, turning back to face the elf who was looking at her rather startled by the seriousness in her voice.

“What is not good?” he wondered.

“You and your family has been so good to me– _listen_ ,” Wanda caught Elrohir’s hand that was running through the tresses of her hair. Elrohir raised an eyebrow as she pushed his hand away from her. He grinned mischievously and raised his hands in surrender to her. She continued. “This is not productive. You don’t have to pamper me–“

“–I don’t–“

“–You are. Don’t lie to me,” she cut him, “Elladan tells me that you’ve been excusing yourself from your duties because of me.” Wanda shook her head. “I don’t want that.”

Elrohir stared at her, now began to wonder why her mood seemed go downhill so fast in such a short time.

“I do it because I love you,” stated Elrohir seriously, frowning. He made a move to take her hand but she shied away from him.

“I don’t want to be a charity case.”

The elf placed firm hands on her arms. “You are not. A charity for me. Never,” he stated matter of factly, his eyes pleading her to believe him.

Wanda looked away at seeing the slight hurt in his beautiful eyes. “I…I think…” she bit her lip, “Can I have a moment alone today?” she asked quietly, then forced herself to meet his eyes. “Please.”

Elrohir had vowed that he would be there for her until she send him away. But what he did not expect was that she really did send him away. A pang of hurt that crossed his eyes didn’t escape Wanda. She sent him an apologetic look, but didn’t say anything to rectify her request.

Elrohir swallowed and nodded. “Alright, _melleth_. You know where to find me if you need anything?” he asked gently.

She was hoping that he would be mad at her. He didn’t. Not even once. She nodded and gave him a wistful yet grateful smile, watching him go.

***

“ _A pinch of paprika…”_ she watched from a distance as Vision literally took a pinch of a spice and put it on the sauce pan.

 _“…a pinch,”_ she heard him mumbled to himself, his voice almost as soft as the Chet Baker’s music running at the background of the luxurious kitchen at the Stark’s Tower.

 _“Is that paprikash?”_ she chirped with laughter in her eyes. Vision looked at her, his eyes very much human and innocent as he regarded her.

“ _I thought it might lift your spirits.”_

She took a spoon and gently giving the soup a stir before tasting it. Wanda fought the urge to giggle when she tasted the overly spiced hot liquid in the pan that Vision tried to make for her. “Spirit’s lifted.”

_“ In my defense, I haven't actually eaten anything before, so…”_

Still smiling, Wanda inspected the spices that Vision had on the counter. “ _May I_?” she offered to fix–or try to fix the soup.

 _“Please,”_ he replied in his polite British accent. Vision quietly observed her as she continued her inspection of the spices and putting some in the slightly simmering pan _._ In his mind, he was much thinking of ways to cheer her up. He could easily calculate billions, trillions data all at once in a flick of a finger. But the woman in front of her was as much as mystery to the gem that gave him his life.

_“...Wanda?”_

She hummed in response.

_“No one dislikes you, Wanda.”_

“ _Thanks,”_ she replied with a chuckle. Wanda looked at Vision fondly as he awkwardly trying to innocently cheer her up.

 _“Oh you're welcome. No, it's ah...”_ Vision made a gesture around his head, referring to his brain, “… _involuntary response in their amygdala that can't help but being afraid of you.”_

 _“Are you?”_ the Scarlet Witch lightly teased him.

_“My amygdala is synthetic, so...”_

That got Wanda to laugh; and for a moment Wanda adored just how cute Vision was.

 _“I used to think of myself one way. But after this…”_ she swirled her fingers, scarlet danced around her hand _, “I am something else. And still me, I think. But that's not what everyone else sees,”_ she mumbled almost to herself.

 _“Do you know, I don't know what this is,”_ Vision pointed at the yellow gem on his forehead, “ _Not really. I know it's not of this world. But it powered Loki staff, gave you your abilities. But its true nature is a mystery. And yet, it is part of me.”_

“ _Are you afraid of it?”_ Wanda asked.

_“I wish to understand it. The more I do the less it controls me. One day, who knows, I may even control it.”_

The subtle meaning behind his statement about owning his own power was not missed by Wanda. He embraced his power; as so he wanted her to embrace hers. But how could she, after so much damage she inflicted upon this world?

The Scarlet Witch looked back to Vision’s cooking, sharply changing the subject, wanting nothing but to escape from this topic for a while.

_“I don't know what's in this but it's not paprika. I'm gonna go to the store. I’ll be back in 20 minutes–“_

Vision quickly blocked her, in a not so subtle way. Hell, he even used his power to pass through the chairs to get to her that quick.

 _“Alternatively, we could order a pizza?”_ he suggested.

She looked at him in slight disbelief. _“Vision, are you not letting me leave?”_

He cast his eyes down, momentarily weighing his next words. _“...It is a question of safety.”_

 _“I can protect myself.”_ Wanda made to move, but his gentle hand stopped her.

 _“Not yours,”_ he said gently, almost apologetically. _“Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident. Until the Accords are a more secured foundation.”_

Wanda was not happy to hear this. With a challenge hidden in her voice, she asked him back. _“...And what do you want?”_

Vision did not flinch at her tone, nor he doubted for a second of what came out of his mouth next _._

_“For people to see you... as I do.”_

***

Wanda woke up in the middle of the night with a start. The memory of Vision was fresh in her mind. The sound of the jazz music that had played that day still rang softly in her ears. It was eerie to think that Elrohir was being exactly the way that Vision had been with her.

It was only about time that he was going to also be taken away from her.

The thought suffocated her, suddenly making it felt as if the walls were closing on her. Wanda shook herself and took sharp, quick breaths in. She had to get away–at least for now.

She got off her bed, and quietly chose to exit through the window in her room to avoid the elves and jumped down about ten feet to the ground. She began her walk as she took in deep breaths, hugging herself as she felt the cold night air blew her hair back.

A foreign power that lightly nag at her mind wasn’t natural. It wasn’t her own.

She stopped in her track. Her fingers twitched, ready to punish whoever that dared try to pick at her mind.

Following her instinct, the Avenger turned around and had her power slithering in scarlet around the neck of the mind intruder. When she saw who it was, she immediately let go, and the other woman let out a long gasp for air as she held her neck area.

Wanda watched speechless as her hazel eyes met the eerie glowing blue eyes that Princess Leane would’ve normally had dark brown. There was no hostility in her expression but a slight look of annoyance in it. And if her ears didn’t deceive her, the Scarlet Witch could hear her mumbling ‘ _feisty’_ to herself. Wanda frowned in confusion.

“I’m sorry. I do not mean harm. I was just looking for you,” Leane murmured through heavy breaths, her face pale yet determined. The female with the shining raven hair had one of her arms supporting half of her weight by the wall next to her as she looked at her, “I have a vision.”

For a moment Wanda was startled at the mention of Vision’s name, but soon realized that the mortal princess meant something else. Leane straightened up, looking fatigued yet shrugged as if nothing bothered her.

“We need to talk.”

***

[ **Author’s Note** : I hope I don’t mess this plot lol. I know there are lots of unresolved things here, namely baby Bellethiel, broken hearted Ro and Leane’s We-Need-To-Talk speech. Did I do you a cliffhanger or is it just too much? XD]


	12. Shared Life Experience

“DC.”

“New York.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

Wanda took in a deep breath, letting that revelation sink in. She locked eyes with the princess of Mirkwood, for once a familiar feeling of nostalgia came again, but it didn’t hurt her. It was just that–nostalgic.

A prolonged silence filled the night air as the two female took in the new information, each of them processing the knowledge in their own ways. The sound of the soft rustle of the leaves by the cold night wind were the only thing that filled the space between them.

“I thought I’m all alone,” Leane finally broke the silence, then cleared her throat from the emotion that threatened to steal her composure. She turned her gaze back at Wanda before continuing, “But I’m not. You have no idea how it feels to meet someone with a shared life experience.”

A nod from the avenger, then another silence. “What year?” Leane inquired.

“2025,” Wanda replied, responded by an intrigued raise of an eyebrow from the princess. “You?”

“2015,” Leane answered. “We’re ten years apart from where we came from. Yet the time we spent on this realm is somewhat confusing,” she breathed. Leane’s fingers played mindlessly with the chiffon baby pink dress she was wearing when she first awoke for the first time since the battle. She had been sleeping so long; now her mind was restless. “I’m guessing Obama isn’t the president anymore?”

“No. We had quite a lousy one after him. It didn’t help that I was an immigrant,” Wanda mused, “Thankfully we elected someone else in 2020. He’s better, though I still prefer Obama really.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea. He’s the kind of president that lightly suggested people to drink disinfectant to kill viral infection.”

“Wow.”

The two woman looked at each other and for a first time, they both had an amused smile played on their faces.

“So your accent,” Leane pointed out, deciding that she didn’t need to know more about the disinfectant president, “Russian?”

Wanda shook her head. “No. I’m Sokovian. We might sound similar to you Americans but we’re different, here,” she tapped at her head, “...and here,” she pointed at her heart.

A deep frown cut deep on the forehead of the princess as she tried to recall the name of the country. “Soko–what?”

“Sokovia.”

“Either my memory is rusty or that country doesn’t exist on my map.”

“Let me refresh your memory,” Wanda said with a sour note on her tongue, “Ultron. Army of robots, a city being lifted up to the sky then being thrown back to the earth like a meteor. It’s all over the news. Worse than 9/11.”

Her explanation did nothing to clarify but add more questions in Leane’s head. “What are you talking about? There is nothing worse than the nine eleve–“ Leane cut herself mid speech as realization dawned on her. “No _fucking_ way.”

Wanda let out a chuckle of amusement at hearing the foul language coming out of the supposedly graceful princess. “I missed hearing people cursing. We had a friend who hate that kind of language. We used to curse just to piss him off–“

Leane cut her as she grabbed the female by her arms. “You said Ultron. Does the name Maximoff mean anything to you?” she demanded, her blue eyes wary as she waited for Wanda’s answer.

The avenger's expression fell. “So you remember now.”

“Remember what?”

“My name,” Wanda answered with a melancholic sigh. “Sometimes it would pop up on the news. Not always for being heroic.”

Leane looked at the female in front of her with shock; her hold on her arms loosened. The look that she gave her made Wanda felt uncomfortable. She looked away.

“I…have not always been good,” the Avenger admitted with shame, “But I tried. I really did. Those people that I hurt… I didn’t mean to. I was still learning to control my power.”

Leane watched as the reservoir in Wanda’s hazel eyes began to grow. But the Scarlet Witch was too strong to actually shed a tear. Wanda moved to stand up from the bench they were sitting on and made her way in front of Elrond’s flowers, as if studying them.

Pushing through her fatigue, Leane got up and walked up to her. She touched her shoulder gently. “Wanda,” she called, making her turn to face her. “I know. No one is judging you, Wanda,” she told her genuinely.

Wanda felt her lips quivered with relief–she was steeling herself for rejection, but the warmth and kindness which the Mirkwood princess gave her thawed the wall she had began to build again around herself.

Wanda was unable to stop the leak in her eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed by the massive emotion rolling off of the brunette, Leane quickly put up her empathic walls.

 _Damn this ring_ , Leane thought to herself as her own power exposed her to Wanda's feeling of brokenness. One that was too familiar and was hoping to never feel again. She hated it; wanted to run from it; yet she couldn’t bear watching Wanda endured it herself.

“Come here,” she sighed, unable to hold her own tears from slipping down her cheek as she pulled Wanda into her arms.

The two women clung to each other as if their lives were counting on it. When they finally pulled away, one of them began to giggle through their tears, and the other followed.

Leane wiped her wet eyes, a smile still plastered on her pale yet still beautiful face. “On any circumstances I would’ve asked for your signature, but…” she chuckled.

“You want a signature from the girl who managed to wreak havoc across the world?”

“No,” Leane shook her head, “I want a signature from one of the most badass female in the Marvel Universe,” she corrected with a grin.

Wanda looked at her confused. “What?”

“We’re not from the same earth,” Leane explained, her inner Marvel nerd began to get excited, “Have you heard about a multiverse theory before?”

Wanda shook her head.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Leane promised, a different smile graced her expression as she felt a tug at her bond with Legolas, “Once I calm my husband down. He is now awake and freaking out that I wasn’t sleeping next to him. He’ll be here in 5…4…3–“

“ _–Leane_!”

The two women exchanged a knowing look towards each other, just before a very disheveled elf prince found their hiding place amongst the flowers.

***

Wanda suspected that Prince Legolas probably had locked Leane in his chamber and threw away the key since the last time she met her–just so the adventurous, stubborn princess would heed the healer’s order to rest.

Ever since that night, many questions still left unanswered. Leane hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her the vision she was talking about, yet Wanda was patient enough to wait. Meanwhile, her meeting with the kindhearted woman had reminded her who she was before all of this tragedy.

She was an avenger. She vowed to be good and to atone for all her wrongs in any way she could. Pulling herself away from the rest of the world was no longer the only option.

Two elves looked at her with their jaw hung open so low as they continued to stare at her.

“Where do you want me to put these?” Wanda questioned, scarlet swirled around her fingers and wrapped itself like a blanket around the boulders and the big ruins that used to be a quarter of the Healing Houses.

An elf warrior with a shining golden hair showed up, answering for the paralyzed elves that were too astonish to actually answer her. “There, on that heap by the river. We will sort it out later to salvage what we can,” he pointed out, then turned his gaze towards the two elves, “ _Don’t just stand there. Go and clear out the way so the lady can move the ruins safely.”_

That order from the Golden One shook the two elves out of their stupor and they began to scramble and shouted orders for the elves along the way to clear out of the area. Wanda sent Glorfindel a grateful nod before focusing her eyes on the massive chunks of boulders and rocks. Her hands and fingers twisted in a dance, matching the scarlet in her eyes.

The sound of the heap of heavy boulders and ruins being dropped to the ground shook the earth. Lord Elrond and his trusted advisor, Erestor were in the study when they felt the tremor. The two ancient elves looked at each other as the chandelier above their heads were swaying from the force.

They looked out the window with much trepidation. But upon seeing the massive pile of ruins removed from the lawn and now laid next to the river, and the brunette woman who was the culprit of the completion of the task that would normally take them days, Elrond let out a sigh of relief.

“Can you imagine, _mellon nin_ , someone so small could harbor such powers?” mused Erestor.

The edge of Lord Elrond’s lips were lifted into a small smile, though his eyes still looked weary with all the burden that had been placed upon his shoulders lately. “Aye, Erestor. She is much like the princess of Mirkwood, is she not?” he commented, thoughtful as he gazed out to the city below them. “Humans. Mortal, yet the potential they carry is beyond us.”

“In a way.” Erestor looked at his friend and master in agreement. “The timing of her appearance couldn’t be more impeccable. It is as if it was the design of the Valar.”

The lord of Imladris only responded with a nod, and a comfortable silence befell them once again before Erestor decided to break it. “Will we ever tell her about the lamp? Maybe she can aid us as we once again face the threat of Mordor.”

Elrond hummed as he walked back towards the chair which he was seated on before. He sighed inaudibly as he looked at the documents scattered on the table in front of him. So many tasks to tackle, so little time. His thousand year eyes met his advisor’s. “I still believe that secrecy is the key to keep the lamp safe for as long as it could.”

“Since Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn sailed to Valinor, we no longer have a strong close kin that may support us,” countered Erestor, his expression worried.

“Yet unlike The War of The Ring, Thranduil now answers to our call for aid. We can count on him. Gondor will as well.”

“Will it be enough?”

Lord Elrond had a frown cutting deep in the center of his forehead. He didn’t have all the answer, yet the look of determination passed his expression. “We will be prepared this time.”

***

“I am not talking to you until you tell me the truth– _don’t_ touch me.”

There were times when Legolas would think that his wife’s fiery spirit was adorable.

‘Tis’ was not one of them.

“This is ridiculous, _melleth nin_. Am I not allowed to have a secret of my own?” he tried to persuade her with his logic, “Why have you deny me of touching you? I’m your husband.”

“Oh, now you’re talking about having a secret of your own when you clearly wants me to tell you everything that’s going on in my head,” she countered, “And, are you my husband? I thought you’re married first to Lord Elrond,” she grumbled sarcastically, folding her arms in front of her chest as she sat at the furthest edge of the bed, avoiding Legolas like a plague.

“Now that is silly. You know he is nowhere as attractive as you,” Legolas answered teasingly, “Not as breathtaking as you. _Never_.”

A blush bloomed on the cheek of his wife, and Legolas grinned inwardly at the effect that he had on his wife. “Forgive me, my wife. It saddens me to have to hide this from you, but Lord Elrond had made me swore an oath that I cannot break.”

Hearing the sincere remorse in his voice, Leane let out a sigh and let her arms fell to her sides. She changed her strategy.

“Look…” she finally gave in, “If you can just tell me,” she convinced him, sliding closer to her husband that he was sitting within an arm’s length but not quite touching him. She purred, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Legolas narrowed his icy blue eyes, noticing how her voice had dropped low as she spoke those words. He tilted his head, face unreadable yet the amusement that twinkled in his eyes was inescapable, “Are you trying to seduce me into breaking my oath?” he accused suspiciously.

The princess frowned, as if she was offended. Then she rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m mad at you,” she said to his face, their noses merely inches from touching. Legolas couldn’t help but admire how cute his wife was when she was being mad. He gave her that boyish smirk of his, and Leane had to convince herself that it annoyed her to no end. “In fact,” she moved away just as he was about to touch her face and got out of the bed, “You can sleep on the couch tonight. _Again_ ,” she said with an obvious fake smile.

Before she could disappear and hide again in the bathroom just as per usual when she was irked by him, Legolas quickly got up and took her hand, pulling her rather quickly that she yelped in surprise and bumped herself on his sturdy chest. Their faces were once again in close proximity, and from here he could feel her sweet breath as she glared up at him.

“What do I get if I give you what you want?” Legolas taunted her half playful, half suggestively.

Leane hated the fact that Legolas still managed to make her feel weak on the knees, even after decades being married to each other. She wanted to punch him and wipe that smugness off of his handsome face; yet she also wanted to kiss him so bad.

It was a difficult choice.

“Clear conscience and a peace of mind,” she offered in mild annoyance, especially when Legolas responded her with that melodious chuckle of his.

 _Ugh_ , damn elvish perks.

“How about a kiss instead?” he asked, his eyes soft yet hopeful as he searched her beautiful face, “You have been avoiding me since you were awake. I have missed you,” he admitted. “Have you not punish me enough, my love?”

She visibly softened as she saw the longing in his brilliant blue eyes. The female lift up her pinky finger to him, and Legolas chuckled again at the rather unusual gesture she forced upon him. “One kiss, then you promise to tell me?”

Legolas intertwined his one pinky finger with hers, icy eyes sharp yet gentle and loving at the same time as he looked at her. “I promise I will do everything in my power to get you what you want,” he replied diplomatically, refusing to think about the consequences later when she finds out that there was no actual shortcut to breaking the oath.

“Good. Why didn’t you just say so two days ago?”

Amusement and mirth lit up Legolas’ eyes as he brought his hand to her face. The kiss was chaste and loving, yet its trail of heat was left burning in their eyes once they pulled from each other. Eventually the couple sealed their promise with more than just a kiss; one that would eventually change the tide of war.

***

“I’ve had enough of you,” seethed the young elf maiden, her delicate shoulders visibly shaking as she glared daggers at Wanda. “You don’t want to take the responsibility of the baby, fine. Yet the cold treatment you gave towards your innocent niece was uncalled for, despite how much I understand that you are grieving. We all are.”

Wanda blinked, stupefied at the angry outburst that the baby's appointed babysitter directed towards her. The visibly upset elleth made her way towards Wanda, fearlessly shoved the baby into Wanda's arms–not even caring that the woman might break her into pieces as she did with the orcs that invaded Rivendell two months ago.

“The least you can do is watch her while I go to the healing wing to get her medication,” the elleth grumbled angrily. “Here’s her milk,” she put the bottle on the small table near them, and a bag full of other babies stuff next to it, “And everything else in case you need to change her.”

Wanda panicked when she saw the sleeping baby in her arms. “But I–“ her protests died when the elleth had rushed away without another word.

The Avenger stared at the door of her room, dumbfounded. She closed her eyes in frustration, a soft Russian curse left her mouth as she forced her eyes anywhere but the bundle in her arms. She sat there awkwardly, her back stiff as she held the sleeping baby who she refused to look at. Eventually, though, she must, for the baby began to anxiously wiggled in her blanket and started to cry.

Cursing inwardly, Wanda was forced to look at Bellethiel's daughter. The baby was actively crying with all her might; her face was reddened at the force, eyes closed as the tiny babe cried in Wanda’s arms. Wanda never held a baby so small before; let alone care for one. Panic began to rise inside her as she, in desperation, began to soothe the baby by rocking her gently.

“Shhh…” the Avenger hushed the baby, a frown on her forehead as she mentally asked the baby what she wanted.

For some reason Wanda chose to be annoyed by the screaming and convinced herself that disowning her was the best course of action. She even silently wonder where the elleth went, or if she ever going to come back any time soon. The sight of the milk bottle that the babysitter set aside next to her seat caught her eyes.

“Are you hungry?” she questioned. Unsure of herself, she carefully picked up the bottle and put it near the baby's mouth. And when the baby ceased her crying and began drinking the milk she offered her, Wanda couldn’t help the relief in her chest. “That’s it, you little brat,” she said softly with a hint of a smile, one that she didn’t even realized was gracing her face.

Unbeknownst to her, two elves were watching their encounter behind the entrance.

A small smile played at the tip of Miel's lips as the elleth looked at the mischievous glint in one of the twin's eyes. “I think I should take my time to look for the baby's medication,” she mused.

Elladan looked at the fair elleth's face rather fondly. “I didn’t know you could be tricky as well, Miel.”

The elleth had rosy color dusting her cheek slightly at hearing her name came out of Elladan's lips. “Maybe I spent way too much near you and Lord Elrohir these days that it somehow rubbed off on me,” she replied smartly, and Elladan would have laughed out loud had they were not trying to be stealthy around Wanda and the baby.

“I should keep an eye on you, dear Miel,” he replied with humor in his steely yet soft grey eyes.

Both elves watch Wanda and the baby again for a time, before a plan formed in Elladan's mind.

“Tis’ maybe a good thing. Maybe, by Valar's grace, a little time spent with Bellethiel's baby would change her mind. I will cover for you, so you can come back a little later. Meanwhile I shall accompany my brother’s beloved; Valar knows she knows not how to care for a baby. Look at the way she sits so straight.”

Miel hid her giggle with her delicate hand. Their eyes met, and before long she gave him a pretty curtsey. “Then I shall take my leave. I shall be at the healing wing if you need me.”

Elladan gave her a soft smile and a nod, his eyes glued to her form as she floated away…

By the time he showed himself to Wanda, Elladan did nothing to help her and instead plopped on her bed and helped himself with a honey cake that laid there on the night stand, claiming that he knew nothing of the ways of caring a baby despite being trained as a healer for centuries–be it for adults or children as well.

“Oh I must not,” replied Dan as he chewed the sweet cake in his mouth and savored it, “I’m afraid I shall break the poor babe. My hands and arms are meant to wield swords; not babies. I knew not my way around them.”

Wanda unknowingly swallowed his lies whole, although not without a scowl on her face. She cursed again, and Elladan did nothing helpful but continued cleaning off the delectable snack that supposedly belong to Wanda and happily rested his head on top of his hands.

When Elrohir eventually joined them, he arched a neat eyebrow at the both while Elladan filled him on the little prank that he played on Wanda. Being the good little brother that he was, Ro happily obliged in their plan.

“You know, if Ada found an ellon in the lady's room, much alone on her bed, he would claim it a dishonor,” said Ro as he too, plopped on the other side of Wanda's bed, next to his older brother. “Pray, save some of that snack for me, will you?”

Elladan stopped eating and gave the small plate containing the rest of the honey cake to Elrohir as if it was his. “There. I care not. You can eat them all and be fat, so that for once, people can actually differentiate between us two,” Dan replied casually as he put his hand back behind his head.

“Please. This is your third serving already. I saw you munch on two of them in the kitchen. You’re the one getting fat,” accused Elrohir.

Wanda frowned unhappily. “Are you two coming here just to annoy me?”

“Of course not,” replied the twins in unison, causing Wanda to roll her eyes.

“We just want to give you company. You and the little baby seem lonely.”

“And to see if you need any help,” added Ro with a feigned innocence, “But seems like you handle yourself well. So we’ll just guard in case an orc decided to come by.”

Elladan shrugged as if to back his brother's argument. Both elves grinned at each other when they saw the exasperated sigh coming off of Wanda's lips. Wanda on the other hand, shook her head at seeing two exact copies of elves casually lounging on her bed just to annoy her.

What a bunch of weird folks they are.

***

[ **Author's Note** : I figured after such sad chapters lately, I should end this one with a rather happy scene. Hope you like it and let me know if you do. Also I wanna say sorry for not updating often. I just got the week off after 7 months of endless work and ever since coming back to my hometown 2 days ago, I’ve been doing self quarantine so I’m hoping to post more. Hopefully. I hope you all are safe, healthy and take care of yourself. Stay strong, mellon nin!]


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